Worth Fighting For
by Aen Silver Fire
Summary: Unforgiving Warfare, the Shinsengumi, a dreaded conscription paper, a young maiden struggling to prove her worth and a horrible threat approaching. . . a prayer. . . for her identity to remain concealed, a chant of luck reaching the heavens, a hope that the cricket in her clothes and the dragon by her side can help her uphold the lost honor of the Yukimura Family/ AU
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Notes**

-_Welcome to our new project! This bright new fanfic is a joined work between me and MysteriousLittleChild. We truly hope you can all share our mirth and excitement. You might have guessed by the summary, but this story will awaken long lost childhood memories, combining them with the allure of Hakuouki characters. _

_Aen Silver Fire_

_-Bringing the together two of my favourite fandoms is... well, something I've always wished to do and to do so with a friend such as Aen Silver Fire is a dream come true. I admit that I have been bouncing off the walls ever since we agreed to do this together and I do hope that you enjoy what we have written together. Dazzling white horses really are the best, aren't they?_

_MysteriousLittleChild._

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Hakuoki.

* * *

**Worth Fighting For**

**~Chapter 1~**

* * *

Kondou Isami had always been a man of honesty.

The pride hefty banner under which he and his loyal men marched only added to strengthen this argument.

Makoto. Sincerity.

A virtue long lost behind fake smiles, drowned in the depths of cajolery.

Kondou willed himself to smile gently at the High Officials of Aizu and endorse the enthusiasm of their decisions. War Councils, skirmishes, rigorous strategies swirling around him, almost suffocating him. He was determined to entertain the Lords, deftly convince them to favor his men and not withdraw their continued support and, if presented with the proper chance, even offer his own input on the battle's layout. He was, after all, a man of the military too, wasn't he?

Deep inside, though, he was burning, spurting insults at himself for condescending to participate in this Council.

Which part of this meeting was sincere, he wondered. Certainly not the wry smiles, or the inane flattery.

He had, undoubtedly, already pledged his allegiance to the Aizu Clan. And, of course, he was not about to take his word back, regardless of the reason.

It was his duty to ensure the well-being of their troops. He was entrusted by Toshi and Sannan-kun to represent the newly-formed group called Shinsengumi. And Kondou Isami certainly did not forgive or concede failure; especially on his part.

It was to be expected, though, that flattery came at a price. And very shortly that price was demanded of him.

"What of your conscription program, Kondou-san? How is it progressing?"

The question was darted at him in a very abrupt and slightly unforeseen manner. Isami swallowed slowly and casted an anxious glance at the Aizu official, "Conscription program, my Lord?" he dared utter out, confusion laced in his kind voice.

The Official furrowed his austere eyebrows. "Wasn't it clear enough that for the Shinsengumi to continue marching under our wing and be allowed to participate in the upcoming war, they need to bolster their manpower? I thought it was made apparent enough already, Kondou-san."

At those sharp words, the kind Leader had no other choice but to nod. However, he also needed to ask for further clarification.

"Do you require us to send . . . recruitment papers?"

Quite frankly, the mere concept of a conscription program was difficult to accept or digest. They did not retain the right equipment to gather and train more men under their flag. And, as a matter of fact, it was already agreed upon by the Shinsengumi's founders that the troops will be constituted by the most trusted and faithful men they had in their reservoir. To even consider the probability of welcoming new, completely estranged and distrustful men to fight in their ranks, did nothing but worry Kondou.

Truly, boosting their numbers would be a great asset in battle. But accepting people callously into the troops they strove so greatly to form brought a very sour taste to Kondou's mouth.

The arid glower he received was deemed enough for an answer. Recruitment papers then. . . He needed to discuss this with Hijikata and Sannan promptly.

He was in position and had no authority to defy the Aizu's bigwigs. Should he even attempt to resist? Probably not. It was not his place. And it was also painfully clear that their numbers were too small for them to effectively assist the Aizu Clan in their endeavors to protect the Emperor and the country of Japan.

He opened his mouth to finally announce he'd adhere, until—

"My Lord!" The vehemence and apparent fright of the voice ruptured any last remaining pieces of calmness, discarded any last ounce of stability off the room. All occupants veered to intently regard the messenger.

Kondou was quite certain he had never set his eyes on a person more frightened before. The mere sighting of the disheveled and panting man brought shivers to cascade down his spine.

"The. . .The Choshuu." His voice was scarcely audible beyond his labored gasps. "The army—"

"What about the Choshuu?" One of the Lords raised his voice, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did they move against us? Did they pass the bridge we had placed as an—"

"An army!" The weakened man dared tower the Nobleman's voice with his, quite uncouthly. Whatever the news were, Kondou guessed, they must be critical enough to warrant such a rude interruption of an Official. "A strange army," he paused to take in a sharp breath to feel his deprived lungs with the much needed oxygen. "Undead. White hair. Red eyes. They cannot be defeated."

Frosty, intense and stringent gazes came to pin the messenger down with a hefty blanket of unease and, some, with consternation. The words the man just uttered hardly made any coherent sense. However, whatever the man's intentions were, whatever the nature or origins of this strange army were. . . his last exclamation stirred all Aizu Officials into frantic action.

"They are heading towards us!"

* * *

In the not so distant town of Edo, settled neatly within the confines of the Aizu domain, a brilliant white horse stalked the ground. He, the horse, was still struggling to get used to walking upon four legs instead of two despite not having been born yesterday. What would've regularly been curses came out as a frustrated, hollow neigh.

Things for the horse were not as they used to be. Where once upon a time he was a fearsome pure blood with the strength of several men, a ill chosen decision on the field of war left him in this state. He had always joked to his closest allies about wishing to ride into battle on a dazzling, white horse but he would have never once entertained the idea of actually playing the role of the horse itself.

For an Oni, such as him, to be punished in such a way for a moment of foolishness was unheard of. He was a man of impeccable breeding! A man who should, in the Oni community, be respected and admired if only for the lineage which pumped through his veins. A man of his regal standing should not be trapped within the body of a horse, serving a family for which he couldn't care for in the least. A light wind picked up, toying with his golden mane, bringing with it a small crimson cricket.

The cricket had some nerve sitting so comfortably at the end of his nose, it was an insult if he ever knew one. The way the cricket sat, perfectly still, reminded him of someone. A friend? No, ally, he could never let anyone know of how he thought of his underlings. He was brought up to keep people at an arm's length and use every ounce of them for his own benefit. He knew that those he trusted were also punished for their insolence, perhaps they too would be trapped in a body of a creature although hopefully, he thought, more fitting to their nature than he was.

His eyes, awkwardly, set firm on the small cricket. He wanted to ask, purely in curiosity, "Amagiri?"

It was as if the insect heard his inner thoughts, it leapt up into the air, its wings passing one and other to give off a delightful chirp. It reminded him of the type of noise he once took for granted as he stalked the battlefields in the early morn. A confirmation or just a very strange coincidence?

"It is I, Kazama-sama," The horse thought, his front right hoof clattering against the dusty ground, a vain attempt at gesticulation. In the dim light of the setting sun his brilliant, blonde mane shone like liquid gold whilst his eyes glowed like rubies, set into the purest white silken hide.

"Amagiri, can you understand my thoughts?" He continued, feeling ever more foolish as he allowed his selfish attempts to be recognized to persevere. He didn't just want to be known as Tiddles or Horsey, he wished to be remembered as the man, the Oni, he was.

The cricket chirped once again, nodding it's tiny head in affirmation.

One down, another one to go, he thought. The one he trusted was here, once again sat quietly on his broad nose, but where could the gun touter possibly be?

"Amagiri, do you know of Shiranui's whereabouts?" The horse enquired through a variety of whinnies and neighs loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

"I apologize, I do not." The cricket chirped back, the minuscule wings on its back working overtime so that it's thoughts could be conveyed.

* * *

All Chizuru could feel, all her senses could gather was. . . pain; almost akin to torture. Nearly blinding ail she was currently very much disinclined to suffer under. And yet it was a necessity, a price to pay. There was no time to wallow in sentimentality or self-pity anymore.

A pain, physical and emotional, induced by the mere fact that she was -quite sadly- a woman.

How awful it must have seemed for a young woman of her standing to rue for such a reason. It would probably be frowned upon, if publicly known. What kind of woman wails for being. . . a woman? A highly audacious concept to even consider. The role of females was to marry, serve their husband dutifully and bear sons. Not to mourn over. . . insignificant details.

"Chizuru-chan. . ." A deep sigh of weariness escaped past the girl's lips as she took a handful of Chizuru's chocolate brown hair and tenaciously brushed. Chizuru slowly veered to cast an anxious apologetic glance to her friend, forcing the kindest smile she could muster to grace her lips.

She knew Kosuzu was not obliged to tolerate and put up with her quirks. And yet, here she was, tending to her, priming her as much as possible, instead of devoting her time training on how to tune the shamisen, or dance hypnotically for her dear costumers as she was supposed to.

Heaving another sigh, Kosuzu batted her hazel eyes. "What are you giving me to work with, Chizuru-chan?" she whined softly and pinched the bridge of her nose indignantly.

Admittedly, having just arrived to their meeting place, drenched in sweat, clothes tacky, hair tangled with branches and numerous leaves was a sight Kosuzu would rather do without seeing. Chizuru was more than certain since the very start that her disheveled and unpolished appearance could only act to ensure a very prickly Kosuzu would meet her, instead of her usual kind self.

"I am so sorry, Kosuzu-chan!" Chizuru curled her lips into another apologetic smile that, unfortunately, did little to pacify the other young woman. "You…you should return back and resume your geisha training," Chizuru insisted, balling her hands into tense fists nervously. The unbidden jab of guilt that came to assail her was fairly impossible to thwart in its sudden ferocity. Watching Kosuzu struggling to tame her unruly locks in her stead was, naturally, not a sight Chizuru enjoyed. And also, as expected, the mere fact that another person was to suffer because of Chizuru's own foolishness and carelessness only acted to stress that horrid feeling of self-accusation and tremendous guilt and remorse she felt overwhelming her.

"You need not bother with me… I shall be fine!" She attempted to reassure, half expecting to be given an optimal reply; meaning Kosuzu's refusal to tend to her any longer. That would be a response equally catastrophic as it would be fortunate. Possibly tremendously disastrous for her future as a loyal wife, but very appropriate and fitting for her person especially, given Chizuru's _peculiar circumstances_.

Kosuzu pouted almost angrily. "You are meeting with the Matchmaker!" She voiced her argument as though it was self-explanatory, in great vehemence, an overwhelming surge of frustration strengthening her words."Your future is decided today! The Yukimura Clan's honor even! You cannot and _must not_ allow yourself to fail."

The sheer verity and intensity of the words Kosuzu just offered had Chizuru nibbling at her lower lip nervously, breath almost quivering. It was a fact that there was no other egress; none whatsoever. Fate designed her life in a manner which dictated her to act in a very specific, very seemly manner. And yet, she had proved to act in a way quite opposite of what was expected of her all her life.

How preposterous it truly was for the daughter of the Yukimura family to be _gloriously _unable to use cosmetics, or properly tie up a silk kimono?

This was truly why she was in such desperate need of her good childhood friend, Kosuzu, who, luckily for Chizuru, was currently training as a maiko, a geiko apprentice, to offer her aid. Naturally, the girl was certain to be a master of adulating women properly. And that was exactly what Chizuru needed at the moment to look even slightly presentable.

One of the most important reasons acting to strengthen the argument that Kosuzu was the most suitable person to cater to Chizuru's current needs was that the Matchmaker was, in fact, a famous geiko herself. Surely, a trick or two from Kosuzu's sleeve could make all the difference. And Chizuru needed as much luck as she could possibly get, considering the meager skills she had displayed thus far. With such poor mastery of any womanly virtues, how could she possibly entertain the idea of claiming to be a proper Edo woman, a daughter of the Yukimura family?

A sharp intake of breath ruptured the deafening silence, a breath laced with a very distinct sense of –still only partial, thankfully- resignation and displeasure.

"You know what? Forget about conventional methods," Kosuzu mumbled behind gritted teeth. She lifted her hands away from Chizuru's very defiant locks and moved to draw her own silk green-brownish ones into a delicate and yet messy bun, seemingly resigned to her fate as loyal friend of the Yukimura girl's –at the same time surrendering herself to whatever repercussions followed said fact- and determined to see this duty of sorts to a proper end. "Undress, please," she demanded lifting her sleeves up to her elbows masterfully.

Chizuru blinked thrice in confusion. "Pardon?"

Kosuzu gave her a crooked, a little impish and sarcastic smile. "Your hair needs to be washed thoroughly. Now, do me a favor and kindly undress, so I can rinse this layer of dirt off your body!"

Submitted under the pedantic and austere glare she had hardly ever seen upon her friend's eyes, she could do nothing but act as instructed.

Moments later, she was stripped completely naked. Kosuzu did not hesitate to almost hurl Chizuru into the water basin with fairly unexpected force.

Impetuous frenzy ensued.

"Cold!" Chizuru's panicked exclamation was impossible to thwart. She brought her hands to cover her chest, rubbing at her forearms at the same time, frantically trying to warm her body up.

"Well, maybe it could have been warmer, if you showed up in time for our appointment," Kosuzu taunted, inhibiting an undignified snort.

Before Chizuru could utter a single word on her defense, a great current of water falling over the top of her head rendered every attempt to do so futile. A very clear sign that Kosuzu was not very pleased. Not at all.

"How did you manage to tangle your hair so much?" Kosuzu complained, indignation and exasperation almost palpable.

Would it serve any purpose to even attempt to explain?

She slightly inclined her head to closely regard Kosuzu. What she received in return was an askance, furtive and certainly disgruntled glance.

_No_. Probably no explanation will be deemed enough.

And thus, she could do nothing but obediently, wordlessly endure.

She was soon, almost bulldozed out of the basin and left to bask in her embarrassment, until Kosuzu finally thought it acceptable to provide her with a clean towel.

"Dry your hair like your very life depends on it," she nearly growled. "If it's not dried enough until I prepare the brushes, I swear, instead of the Matchmaker, you shall meet the Undertaker."

Gulping in fright, she started rubbing her scalp with the towel in a maddening rhythm, striving to satisfy the angered maiko.

Ultimately, her efforts were recognized the moment Kosuzu came to closely inspect. She only offered a very curt nod of approval, but it was enough for Chizuru to breathe out a sigh of candid relief.

In a dashingly expert manner, Kosuzu's pale hands deftly took a firm hold of Chizuru's chocolate brown –and now much softer- hair once more. Dipping her comb into waters so heated that raised puffs of white, she slowly proceeded to run it over the full length of Chizuru's locks, ascertaining that the hair will be held in place as they were supposed to.

Chizuru cast an elusive look, hiding desperate pleas of mercy at the maiko, but, sadly, none of her imploring was heard. Struggling to shove the very concept of pain into oblivion, she bit at her lips and muffled a cry, standing firm as Kosuzu ruthlessly combed all of Chizuru's precious hair and pulled it in the traditional Edo style.

Kosuzu took a step back, watching the other girl intently. She titled her head, tapping her slender fingers at her cheek pensively. Nodding to herself, she finally deemed Chizuru presentable enough. For the time being, at least.

"Close eyes and mouth," the next order was barked in even greater urgency. Chizuru was spared not even a moment to drew in a breath before a wet brush full with white paint danced around her complexion, shading her already quite pale skin alabaster.

"Raise your head." He neck promptly followed to match the shining whiteness of her visage. Soon the nape and shoulders were also painted silk ivory.

"Keep your eyes still closed, okay?" Not even distantly entertaining the idea of disobeying, Chizuru complied. Fiery red came to beautifully lick the corners of her eyelids, ashen black was drawn upon her brows, scarlet came to settle as a blanket upon her rosy lips.

After acquiring permission to do so, she fluttered her cinnamon-colored eyes open.

"Now, please stand up," Kosuzu chirped, evidently in higher spirits. Chizuru only hoped her mirth was caused by the very favorable and optimal result of her efforts and not only because Chizuru looked alarmingly close to a very badly bruised sumo wrestler . . . or worse.

She lifted her arms to aid Kosuzu in her hard work. Soon, she was enveloped by a stunningly bright pale lemon-colored under-dress. A breath later a dashingly vermillion silk kimono was brushed across the entirety of her small physique and came to settle above her yellow robe-like apparel. Kosuzu hurriedly picked an azure-colored obi and secured it around Chizuru's middle so very tightly that the brunette felt her breath being claimed away irrevocably.

"Ko—" she could only utter, gasping for her much-needed oxygen.

"Tiny waist, Chizuru-chan," was the –quite strong- rebuttal she received in return. And, naturally, no words could be used to counter this glorious argument.

"Now. . ." Kosuzu pulled herself into a standing position and held out her right hand. Blinking curiously, Chizuru moved to take it and was shortly placed before a full-length mirror.

She batted her eyes repeatedly. Could it be? Could that be her, really? The mere concept was impossible to digest. How could this beautiful young lady staring at her intently be, in fact, Yukimura Chizuru?

Feeling disturbingly disorientated by the outlandish, mystifying allure of the individual in the reflection, she titled her head to the side, searchingly. Despite the sheer audacity of the realization, the woman before her retained features very similar to Chizuru's own.

"Not yet!" Kosuzu abruptly exclaimed in uncontainable enthusiasm. She briskly crossed the room and waddled back holding a very peculiar wooden artifact.

In utter fright Chizuru realized that said artifact was not an artifact at all. It was a small cage, holding in its confines one of the most peculiar creatures she had ever set her almond eyes upon; a crimson insect.

"It's a cricket!" Kosuzu clarified, titling her head to the side happily.

"Cricket?" Chizuru parroted, blinking confusedly.

"I found it resting on a white steed. The sight was truly curious to behold. A crimson cricket upon an ivory-colored horse with golden mane, imagine that. . . I could not just ignore it. I am certain the reason this cricket was placed on my path was because it shall bring you good luck."

"Luck?" Chizuru mumbled incredulously. She had no earthly clue as to what Kosuzu's thoughts were. Was she about to. . . offer her a cricket? At any rate, luck was truly something essential and very urgently needed. Still. . . _a cricket?_

This question was answered a moment after, while Kosuzu dexterously hid the tiny cage and the poor creature behind the folds of Chizuru's obi.

"What am I supposed to do with a cricket?" She wondered, eyeing Kosuzu as though every sense of logic had abandoned her. The gentle geiko apprentice lifted her hands and gently squeezed Chizuru's shoulder affectionately, opting to wholly ignore the last honest query.

"Now, now, my beautiful friend," a blithe smile of enthusiasm came to settle upon Kosuzu's lips, "Could you, please, enlighten me as to what a proper woman Edo needs to be in order to qualify as a perfect bride?"

Stirred into action out of pure instinct, Chizuru recited, "Quiet and demure, graceful, polite, delicate, refined, poised and…" she hesitated, voice momentarily frozen in her throat.

"And?" Kosuzu further prompted, pinching her friend's sides encouragingly.

A single instant later-"Punctual!"She enthusiastically exclaimed.

"Right you are!" A rivulet of giggles slipped out of Kosuzu's lips. She lifted a hand and with one finger and pecked Chizuru's nose playfully. "May I pay a comment?"

Why Kosuzu felt the need to ask permission for that was beyond Chizuru to fathom.

"Surely," Chizuru breathed out, pulling her hands together and placing them demurely at her lap, resisting the urge to rub the sore spot of her beautifully painted nose.

A mesmerizing smile played upon Kosuzu's soft puffy lips as she uttered out, "You look absolutely stunning!"

If her make-up was done lighter, it would be fairly obvious that Chizuru had blushed deeply, cheeks dusted bright pink.

Kosuzu chuckled gently, patting her friend at the back softly. "Time to depart!" she announced, winking playfully once more.

Halted in her tracks and bouncing at the balls of her small feet, Chizuru raised her gaze to closely regard her friend, placing a firm grip around Kosuzu's wrist before she could put any distance between them. "Thank you for everything, Kosuzu-chan. I owe you!" she bowed respectfully. After receiving Kosuzu's jovial smile as incentive and good-luck charm –since one cricket could hardly do wonders enough to salvage Chizuru- she hurriedly moved towards the exit.

She inhaled curtly, breath shaking in anxiety. She allowed her eyes to close for a second, before the last partying words of Kosuzu's started to echo incessantly in her ears.

"Be sure to remember. A girl can bring her family great honor in only one way; by striking a good match. This is your fateful day, Chizuru-chan! Bring honor to your family!"

* * *

The horrifying fingers of dread started to poke at the base of her spine treacherously. Her throbbing heart thundered maniacally, an ominous storm of unfamiliar emotions brewing frantically inside of her.

Failure meant that she was doomed forever to wallow in disgrace. Could she handle the severe repercussions that came hand in hand with her poor abilities?

Ultimately her answer did not matter. For the outcome of this meeting would define her fate, minding not of her opinion or life-plans at all.

"Yukimura Chizuru."

The call of her name felt like a cacophony of death, weaving despair over her. How her clumsy steps guided her towards the horrifying doors leading her to the path of certain doom, the Matchmaker's abode, was a mystery to Chizuru.

Feigning indifference she trudged towards the threshold, struggling to suppress any kind of systole or dysphoria and deter her body from perspiring horribly out of pure unadulterated terror.

The moment the Matchmaker's figure slid into view, Chizuru felt a sizzling gaze pinning her down to the ruthless ground, more hefty than the heaviest burden she had ever carried in her small hands.

Not only her gaze was fervently pressing and meticulous, almost accusatory and highly demanding, but her form itself was a sight to behold and certainly a very alarming detail that added to the Matchmaker's famous image and only served to stress Chizuru's discomfort.

She was a truly beautiful woman; the kind of you can only see drawn in an expensive painting. Her dark purple, embellished with pink flowers, kimono, green obi and dashing glimmering ornaments only acted to emphasize the poised, unearthly fascinating air in which she carried herself.

Kimigiku-sama's unquestionable beauty, though, was not the only feature of hers that was renowned. Her sternness and vehement devotion to her work was also publicly recognized.

With those thoughts swirling maniacally in her troubled mind, any remnants of rational thinking left to scatter on the ruthless winds raging without pause even in the most secure chambers of her nous, Chizuru slowly raised her head to cast a fleeting glance at the older woman.

"Near." The instruction –most likely an order, really- was uttered flatly, coldly; voice sharp like ice.

Pure instinct led Chizuru, nearly screamed at her, to obey; an instinct most fundamental and basic, the one that demanded the weaker should kneel before the mightier.

The alarming sense of belonging into the animal kingdom and falling under their feral rules was greatly emphasized when the dignified geiko started roaming the entirety of Chizuru's body searchingly, circling around her in a predatory manner, austere eyes gleaming dangerously.

"You should praise your good luck," the Matchmaker suddenly spoke, "The kimono you are clad in shows little of your flaws."

Chizuru blinked in utter puzzlement. So, being flawed was taken for granted already?

Kimigiku raised a slender hand and tapped her chin skeptically. "I hardly think you are fitted to bear sons."

Cinnamon orbs widened and narrowed only a fraction of a second after. Despite the inner turmoil waging war at the deepest pits of her psyche, she devoted the utmost of her efforts into concealing the blatant signs of her consternation and unease.

The plea to wordlessly endure was chanted like a mantra behind her closed lips.

"Recite the final admonition."

Chizuru swallowed hardly, struggling to rid herself of the dreadful lump that had settled itself inside her throat. "Fulfill your duties calmly and. . ." she gulped, "a-and. . . respectfully," she finally managed to utter out, "Reflect before you snack."

Before you— what?

"I- I mean… act! Reflect before you act!" she rushed to rectify. The only response she received was another order, very much akin to a bark.

"Be seated."

Slowly, albeit very, very nervously, she complied, making sure to demonstrate her knowledge on how to properly claim a seat as a proud woman. The need to prove herself suddenly became much more tremendously urgent-if even possible- after her last magnificent blunder. The Matchmaker arched inquisitive brows at the spectacle.

Almond eyes snapped open. A very disturbing cracking sound resonated from Chizuru's back the moment she made proper contact with the cushion on the floor. Deciding to think nothing of it, she resumed paying very close attention to the geisha.

"Pour the tea," she instructed Chizuru, and the girl promptly moved to comply.

Vehemently willing herself to ignore the alarming feeling of even greater uneasiness, that she felt overwhelming her, she lifter her hands to grasp the tea pot.

Suddenly, Chizuru started cursing herself and her idiocy. Her sheer intention to please caused her to move neurotically. As a result, her sleeve flowed in a very unseemly manner while she was attempting to touch the cutlery pieces.

Praying to whichever god was currently available that the Matchmaker did not notice her curt and awkward move –this probably was the least of her worries, in any case- she curled her fingers around the pot.

"To please your future in-laws you must demonstrate a sense of dignity and refinement. You must also be poised," Kimigiku resumed reciting, still watching very intently. Chizuru could feel her glacial glower boring holes at her small physique.

Far too entranced by the admittedly mundane matter of gripping a tea-pot ,she failed to notice the peculiar whiff of red that flashed across her eyes. A crimson very much different than the one of her sleeves.

A chirrup acted as the most ominous herald she could have ever asked for. For, frankly, the scene unfolding before her very eyes made no sense at all. After a much needed sharp intake of air, a shiver of fear assailed her senses.

Why, for goodness' sake was the cricket_ in_ the tea cup?

"H-How—?"

"And silent!" she was hushed by the intense booming of the woman's voice.

Before Chizuru could even register the mere absurdity and horror of the situation, the Matchmaker had already taken her tea cup and was pressing it upon her lips.

"No, no!" Chizuru hollered, making Kimigiku fiercely glare at her in a very poignant manner.

"What did I just say about—"

"Don't drink!" Chizuru warned, bouncing almost aggressively towards the woman.

"Mind your manners, girl!"

"I implore you, don't drink this!"

And yet. . . she did.

Chizuru impulsively leaped, mustering all the strength she stored and directing it wholly into most literally pummeling the geisha, in a desperate attempt to make her spit the mouthful she just sipped.

Unable to even process what truly happened and unforgivably assailed Kimigiku had no choice but to uncouthly open her lips and cough up the contents of her mouth.

"What! Wh-are you—"

But she, regrettably, never got to finish her sentence.

_The fool, _Kimigiku mentally hollered in indignation.

"Move!" she barked at Chizuru, who paid little to none heed to the remark, busying herself with trying to capture the crimson cricket. "You foolish minx, move!"

Only then Chizuru finally registered that the Matchmaker was addressing to her. Panting after her agonizing and hopeless endeavors to seizure the insect and secure it inside its cage, mostly in an attempt of idiotic respect and remembrance of Kosuzu's kindness, she failed to notice the exact location of her kimono's long sleeves and obi's.

Faintly recognizing the smell of burnt fabric, Chizuru suddenly vaulted, mercilessly drifting all pieces of cutlery in her frantic dance of despair.

"Fire!" she screamed, grabbing the nearby tea-pot to hurtle at the expensive kimono, partly to no avail. In absolute fright she realized the tatami was now lost behind ruthless flames.

Truly unable to entertain any rational thoughts, she started stomping the ground vehemently.

A ripping sound. Her under-kimono was torn into bits.

A smell of brunt silk. Her obi and sleeves seared.

A warm sensation pressing against her skin. The spilled tea.

And one last holler of condemnation. . .

"You will never bring your family honor! Disgrace!"

* * *

What else was left to do than wallow in ignominy?

She did not even veer to tryst Kosuzu's worried eyes. She simply ran with a great deal of purpose and haste. Ran away. Retreat.

And yet, shame and disgrace clung to her like a plague, regardless of her running and hurry.

Moments after, her plight of a kimono was discarded, face smeared with paint. Staring at her reflection blinking at her by the basin's water she splashed and rubbed, until there was nothing left.

She was not meant to play this part. It must have been a trick, a fake imitation, a walking joke of a woman, designed by the heavens to provide chances for a good laugh.

She would never pass as a perfect bride. Or a perfect daughter. Destined, cursed and condemned to be a figure of absolute shame tarnishing the glory of the Yukimura Family.

The honor of being a Yukimura offspring rested only upon her shoulders, after Kaoru-kun. . . after Kaoru-kun. . .

And yet she failed. And very miserably at that. She had failed her father, she had failed Kosuzu, she had failed her ancestors, she had failed even Kaoru.

Chizuru heaved out a weary sigh. Unable to hold in her tears, she wailed.

From outside the clinic walls she heard what soon became a unruly commotion. People shouting in disbelief in the proclamation which just reached their ears.

_Conscription._

One male, of serving age, from every family had to fulfill his duty to his domain and to his lord by serving under the newly-formed elite group named the Shinsengumi. For many of the poorer families who made Edo their home, it meant that they were to lose their only provider to the throes of war. The prospects in general were horrifying. The conscription would leave the town undefended so that the clans could enjoy playing out their little schemes.

She took a sharp intake of air, her brother was long gone to who knows where, so surely her family would be spared the heartache of a son or father at war. It was local gossip for a long while that the Yukimura boy was missing so there surely could not be a chance that he would be called upon as for all she knew, he had passed on.

She stood by the door to her empty home, fearing the possibilities. What could she do if he was called upon? She couldn't turn around to an appointed official, merely claim her brother no longer lived at this residence and hope for an easy resolution.

She already lived a rather lonely, secluded life. Her father used to always travel to distant towns so that he could help the sick and needy with his knowledge of western medicine. He was finally home for what felt like the first in months, despite how selfish it was of her, she didn't wish for him to be ordered away so he could play medicine man to soldiers at war.

A man, on the other side of the door, cleared his throat. It seemed her hopes were to be dashed. With a clear, authoritative tone, a man spoke, "Is this the Yukimura residence?"

"Y-Yes! One moment, please." She hurried, sliding the door to one side to reveal a rather feminine looking man with sharp indigo eyes looking straight back her. A bout of nervousness passed throughout her and without thinking of the implications, she toyed with a stray strand of her hair in effort to dispel it.

"I carry a declaration," he spoke, "for the man who goes by the name of Kaoru. Is your husband home? I'd prefer to hand it to him personally." His words were calculating and carefully chosen.

"H-husband? Kaoru-kun is my brother and unfortunately, he has..." she had to choose her next words very carefully, the man before her held an expression which she couldn't quite read. "He stepped out earlier today and he is yet to return, if you wish, I will make sure that when he does come home that the message you carry is..." she spoke faster than she planned, her tongue becoming tied. In embarrassment, a hand rose over her mouth and a light blush dusted her otherwise pale cheeks.

"Of course, Yukimura-san," he replied all too quickly, his hand outstretching the document, "I shall entrust this important document in your lovely hands. Please do make sure that it is delivered to him as soon as he returns, I wouldn't wish to make our second meeting one which you would not enjoy."

"L-lovely hands?" She quietly whispered, brown eyes cast down to her own hands trapped in those of the man before her. She claimed the document, timidly bringing her own away from his and back to her chest whilst clutching the scroll tightly as if it was an all too precious treasure. "Thank you for trusting me with this important message for my brother." She bowed deeply to the man, expressing her sincere gratitude.

"May I know your name?" The man asked as his fingers lightly tipped her head up so he could gaze upon her face, traces of the make-up from the earlier meeting with the matchmaker still present. She wasn't the most beautiful of women whilst her face still showing hints of immaturity but her wide, expressive eyes easily made up for it.

"Ah, forgive me," She softly spoke as she straightened herself out, "I am Chizuru, the daughter of the physician Yukimura Kodou."

"Then Chizuru-chan, please forgive me for making this meeting short, but I must attend to my duties much like your brother, I do hope that we can one day meet again." A graceful smile swept across his face and Chizuru found herself smiling back, although out of politeness than anything else. As he left her, she felt her heart sink in her chest. He bought her feeble lies with a smile and she felt positively guilty.

Back in the safety and isolation of her own home, she broke the wax seal on the scroll so that she could study the contents. She knew that her brother, Kaoru, wouldn't be returning to his family home any time soon and this was an incredibly important matter which could not be delayed in the least.

The contents of the letter read just as she expected, threats of dishonor and even death for those considered deserters of the war. The name which her father had so painstakingly built could easily be tarnished if Kaoru did not appear for duty as expected. Thoughts swirled around in her mind, what could a girl such as her possibly do – after all, to men, she was only good for cooking, cleaning and birthing a child.

A decision had to be made and swiftly, the deadline was in exactly two weeks. Fourteen days which included the travel time to the destination, the far off capital city.

She had to speak with her father and urgently, despite knowing precisely what he would say when she enquired as to Kaoru's whereabouts. She frowned and shut her eyes in exhaustion, surely she must have done something to anger the gods above as this was unjust no matter which way she looked at it. Realistically, a decision had to be made in the next day or two.

As morning became afternoon and then faded into evening, time passed by so slowly for Chizuru. The man from earlier spoke of making a second visit should her brother not attend as expected. And despite the calm exterior he showed to her earlier, she did not wish to see what could happen if that exterior was to crack and fade through frustration and anger. She was not dense. She noted the threat beneath his honeyed words and didn't wish to see that threat worked upon especially if it was carried out against her dear father.

The door rattled, signalling her father had returned for the evening.

She had been so lost in her thoughts of what could, what would happen if they dared to defy the conscription letter that the evenings meal had not yet been prepared.

Just as her father was to sigh, he noticed the haunted look on his daughters face and all frustration seeped into fear – the only time he had seen his daughter in such a state was when her brother had upped and disappeared into thin air.

"Chizuru, dear?" He softly spoke, his young daughter looked as if she had seen a ghost. He had heard from the neighbors of the conscription details so when his eyes spotted the documents held so tightly in her hands, his face fell into a frown. "So, Kaoru received one too?"

"A-ah... Father, I did not hear you return." She forced the words out of her lips whilst thoughts still played fresh in her conflicted mind. "Kaoru did receive a notice, he has two weeks to appear before the newly established Shinsengumi and perform his duties as expected." The words just kept coming from her, she did not allow herself to stop and consider how rude she may have been coming across to her father, she was more concerned about making him aware of the letters contents.

"Kaoru does not live. How could a dead man possibly appear before a training encampment?" Her father spoke, shaking his head in disbelief.

This was indeed troublesome for the Yukimura family. Silence fell between the man and his young daughter, there was too much left unsaid regarding her brother's disappearance yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her the devastating truth, not yet.

The evening was an uneventful one with so few spoken words. Their shared meal, which had little taste, served as a reminder that her father's cooking truly was awful. Her thoughts naturally raced to the topic of their earlier discussion, her twin brother.

After bidding her father a good night and murmuring her daily prayer to the distant heavens, she could not settle upon her futon despite the warmth it offered her. Memories of both Kaoru and her playing in the street, dancing happily together and making little flower circlets for each other flooded her mind. She willed them to go, to stop paining her but they persisted.

As she always did, she eventually found herself seeking the beauty of her trusty looking glass. It never failed to amaze her at how such a wonderful, ornate piece could reflect one's own face.

There were only a few differences between her and her brother, their eyes were one. Whilst hers were wide, expressive and shone a honey shade in the right light, his would narrow at the first mention of anything which he felt indifferent towards and often hid his true intentions, only to be revealed in the midst of a maniacal personality shift. Where she preferred to wear a smile on her lips, his default expression was a down turned frown. The memories of her brother from childhood truly were just that, idealized memories, the Kaoru she knew in his final days at home was... a different man. But, that was when the realization hit her, after all, she was her brothers twin and thus they shared the same face.

Her thoughts trailed back to the conscription document sat to the right of her futon.

_Kaoru..._

If she, the remaining daughter of the Yukimura family, could not protect her family's honor – who possibly could? If it meant that she was to forever conceal her identity, forge a falsified path in life and become responsible for a duty of another, she would.

For her Father, for her family.

She would become Yukimura Kaoru.

* * *

**Authors' Note**

* * *

_Please, prepare for the maddening roller-coaster we are all about to embark. After all, there are many Hakuoki characters to be introduced. No fan shall be left unsatisfied! Keep your eyes peeled for our beloved bishounen.  
_

_We would really appreciate your feedback. Knowing that our hard work is appreciated can only give us a greater incentive to write faster and faster._

_Digital Cookies to those who can guess which character is who!  
_

_Thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Happy New Year to everyone!_

_Thank you for your lovely reviews _**OniKuShita, XxSapphire-fandomsxX, Marialena-Princess Of The Moon, lunardusk**_ and _**5namida! **

_-And here it is, chapter two! I hope everyone enjoyed the first one and thank you all so much for the feedback, we continue as we mean to go on – full of energy and plenty of giggles. We've got so much planned, you guys are going to love it._

_MLC._

_-Thank you for your support. We do have many things planned, so we hope you'll continue supporting us in this journey! Just a small note for me to the readers of my other stories. . . the fact that I am working on 'Worth Fighting For' does not mean my other project, 'Fiery Green' is abandoned. I have many chapters ready that need editing, so please be patient for a little while longer and enjoy our next chapter of this story, that we both love writing from the bottom of our hearts._

_Aen Silver Fire._

_Rated strong** T** for language_

* * *

**Worth Fighting For**

**~Chapter 2~**

* * *

_Kaoru... You left me with little choice, I am sorry._

_I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive your selfish sister._

The transition took place slowly, beginning with the discarding of her traditional kimono and underclothes. Only in her near naked state could she begin the process of becoming the young scion of the Yukimura family. She had earlier procured a handful of linen bandages from her father's clinic and now was the time to begin the arduous task of binding her modest chest. Layer after layer of linen wound around her torso, siphoning off every breath of air from her lungs as she forced the sudden adaptation on her body.

The pale moonlight bathed her room in an ethereal silver glow, reflecting off of every polished surface, including the scabbard of the kodachi she was now to keep at her hip at all times from this point forth. For a brief moment, she paused her meticulous binding and took a moment to examine the blade under the light of the moon. It weighed heftily in her delicate hands yet if wielded by the hands of a skilled swordsman, it could take life without hesitation.

Would she become someone like that?

Wielding her family heirloom as an extension of her own being, taking life with ease and without regret to preserve her family honor. Could she allow herself to abandon her morals and her conscious?

She did not really have the luxury of choice.

The kodachi was soon sheathed back in its scabbard and laying on the floor beside the document which had haunted her mind since its very arrival. Each breath she took felt shallow, the bindings which clung to her chest were tight. For a second or two, light headedness over came her. She wished that certain things could've been avoided as each layer of her brother's old, musty clothing swamped her petite frame.

She wished that he, Kaoru, had never run away leaving her and her father to clean up his plentiful messes. The first, the under layer, of his clothing was now wrapped tight around her hiding the slight curves she possessed from any roving or suspicious eyes. It felt weird, to her, to be wearing her brother's old clothing in place of her own. There were no elegant folds or bright silks to accentuate anything and everything about her here. They were dark in color, presumably to hide any stains like sweat or even blood and they even induced itching sensations against her pale skin. She had to persevere.

This was her future now.

She began to wish, again. Wish that the heart-ache that her father, her dear father, would feel in the morning may ease over time. To wish that he may find it in his heart to understand the choices his only daughter made.

A second layer, once again, added to the clothed protection on her upper body. Her breathing was gradually becoming easier as her body adjusted to the pressure against it in the form of the linen strips, she uttered a quiet prayer to the gods above to gift her the strength to see this through.

A gentle breeze whistled through the house dancing over her bare face and long hair, consequently reminding her of it and the decision she knew she had been putting off for some time. She closed her eyes tight, wishing if just for one moment, she could remain in her feminine outward appearance so that she may half-enjoy having her hair brushed, toyed with and tousled into the perfect style befitting a woman such as her by Kosuzu.

Her dark eyes shot open, resolution steeled in her quaking heart. Her hand nervously reached out to the kodachi, gripping it tightly once it was placed in one palm whilst the other held a fistful of her hair. With a single clean slice inches of her previously long hair laid on the floor in a untidy pile.

She gulped, audibly, there truly is no going back any more. In a few swift movements of the hand, her hair was placed securely into a high ponytail tied tightly with a few left over linen strips from her father's clinic. The longest part barely touched the nape of her neck and pathetically, a part of her wanted to grieve. Grieve the loss of both her hair and the girl by the name of Chizuru.

And yet again, she found herself wishing. This time wishing again for Kaoru, wherever he was, to be safe in his journey through life as someone had to pass the Yukimura name on and she was in no position to do so, not now. He, Kaoru, was selfish but as was she.

The final part of her ensemble, the hakama pants, swamped her narrow hips hiding any trace of her former femininity. With her only family memento, the kodachi, sat at her hip she was finally ready to defend herself in any time of need which may arise in the coming weeks or months.

She spoke clearly, to no one in particular, "I am Yukimura Kaoru, the brother of Chizuru and the only son to the known physician Kodou."

She wasn't used to the light feeling of her hair and it was unlikely she would ever adapt, it was after all her pride and joy when it hung long down her back. Her cherished looking glass would have reflected a face she knew all too well and a thought of her twin brother dared cross her mind_, Is this what Kaoru could have look like if he was still around_? It only felt like minutes ago that she was being primped and primed to meet the frightening matchmaker and here she was, dressing in old musty male clothing.

A quiet chirp, from the pile of her old clothing, managed to distract her. Hurriedly she pawed through the pile to find the small crimson cricket which was bestowed upon her earlier for its apparent good luck.

With a quivering smile, she turned to the small insect, "If you are to be so lucky, why have things come to this?"

It chirps which she understands to be sad and sorry apologies, further chirps were decided to be groveling insistences that this was her fate and even the best of luck could not alter the fate of another.

She frowned, the first of many under the guise of her brother and places the creature into its little cage then safely between the many layers of her clothing as after all, she would surely need all the good luck she could get. The little cricket wanted to reply, to use his worn and likely hoarse human voice, to reassure her that she was one of the least selfish persons he had ever met.

When her father was to wake in the morning and enter her room, as he always did, he would find nothing but cuttings of her hair and a creased pile of clothing. When her father would look for the document, suspecting something was awry, he would realize that his worst nightmares could not compare to the despair which plagued his heart. His only daughter had decided to take matters into her own hands and he was powerless to intervene.

With sandals on and all other necessary clothing wrapped tightly around her, the cricket and document included, she found the restriction of her emotions becoming more difficult by the second. She had to act quickly as her plans could not afford to be foiled.

With quiet footsteps she maneuvered her way through the darkness of her home and out into the quiet streets. She had only a matter of days to arrive at her destination and thus had little time to dilly dally. As she walked the streets, lone and tired, she spotted a single white horse pounding at the ground with its hoof in an act of frustration.

She approached the horse and gently laid a hand on its head, smiling softly into the crimson eyes which looked at her with a mixture of horror and terror. It initially reared back, flicking its tail to show its distaste in her appearance and that was when she spoke, "I do not know why you are so fearful of me or so filled with frustration but you have nothing to fear, your worries are little in the grand scheme of things." Her lips curved into a sad smile, "You get to remain the beautiful, dazzling horse which you are and even live a life of luxury by having your mane brushed and food in your belly just for allowing others to ride your strong back... I... I, on the other hand, have to make my way to an encampment of men and fight because my brother shouldered me with his responsibilities..." Her voice was calm yet the tears which welled in her eyes threatened to spill, marring her otherwise pale complexion with hideous red stains.

She stood there, a hand out stretched to the horse before her, hoping in her heart that she could somehow gain its trust when a gentle nudge brought her from her thoughts. The horse had approached her, in near silence, as she spoke and somehow she hadn't realized.

Surely a horse of that stature would make a sound or two as its hooves clipped and clopped against the dirt. With a few gentle strokes of its mane, she spoke once again, "I've never seen such a horse as you, I'm sure that if you were to be a man, you would be one of undeniable beauty." She quietly laughed as the horse once again nudged her, giving her the go ahead to mount and ride off into the great unknown upon his back.

Little did she know the horse had been listening to her words intently, moved by the plight which the young woman before him spoke of. He could see through her disguise despite the length she must have gone to in order to keep her true identity hidden. He sensed something about the girl, something which was so very recognizable to him but he couldn't quite identify precisely what so soon after meeting her.

If he could smile, he was certain that one would be gracing his lips. She was strong headed and even quite foolish yet to do something so brazen as take another's identity, forge a life of lies and undertake something no woman should ever have to experience – he felt he had to do something, anything.

A corner of his mind taunted him whilst laughing in pure ridicule that the Oni once known as Kazama, the lord of the western clans, was demoted to such a lowly task of ferrying a foolish girl to her certain demise. Another corner of his mind, flowing with all the arrogance it could muster, insisted that this was his way to redemption, that the girl was merely a means to an end.

As they rode along the beaten paths, he wished he could talk to the girl seated upon his back, clinging so desperately to his neck with every fiber of her being. Occasionally the girl would whisper in his large ears a quiet apology for digging in her heels as insistence that his already hastened speed had to increase if they were to meet the deadline.

The heavens opened.

The tears she so desperately did not wish to shed fell from the sky instead, soaking her and her riding companion through to the bone with ferocity. The rain brought with it the pleasant smell of damp grass which helped to soothe her aching heart.

A unprecedented kink in the road left the horse she rode upon stumbling and spooked, throwing her flat on her back upon the mud. Instead of worrying for her own pains, she approached the horse which reared and tossed its legs around in a manner which seemed more fitting for a child throwing a tantrum.

"Please, I beg of you... Calm down." She quietly pleaded with the horse, willing for its demons to stop tormenting it and allow their journey to continue uninterrupted.

He, the horse, wanted to shout at the woman and to unleash hell for her insistence of a speed he was unable to keep up. It was when his eyes met the ones of the woman's that the rage boiling inside of him simmered down, she really was trying her best and he could not deny that he too had acted a little foolishly by uncharacteristically bowing to her every whim, especially in regards to speed.

His body gradually stopped lashing out in the only manner he knew how and with great difficulty he steadied both his breathing and his heart before tilting his elongated head towards her to prove that his earlier foul behavior was a thing of the past.

She approached him again and once beside him, she ran her dainty fingers through his thick golden mane in gentle brushing strokes. It was indeed pleasurable but to think that a woman's touch would come only at the price of becoming a horse despite his elegant features as a man, it pained his ego.

She spoke once again, "You really are a good horse despite your nervous disposition. I should think of a fitting name for you whilst we travel this road together."

_A good horse..._ how he wished to instead be called a good man, something which felt he never was in life.

"I think, horse, that I shall name you Chikage." She whispered into it's ear, quietly and barely above a whisper as her breath was short from the intense speed they traveled at.

_Chikage, eh?_

He thought what a coincidence that this foolhardy maiden, riding upon his back, would gift him the name he already owned. A quiet chirrup from the confines of her clothing reached him, one that sounded all too familiar. He felt relieved for the fact that he would not be treading this long and tiresome journey alone and that Amagiri, as always, would be there to support him.

His mind couldn't help but wonder to the loud third member who was currently missing.

* * *

Vermillion, burgundy fires entangled with onyx thundering strokes. . . A hypnotic dance of scorching flames. An explosion of heat and soot, scarlet and black. . . an eruption of might and ire.

Emerging from the deepest pits of red was a form of a creature unlike anyone the world had ever seen. A cursed being. . . Debouching from the seemingly unending sea of red were twin sharp purple hues, staring at the world intently, aggressively.

"I _fucking_ live!" he exclaimed violently, stretching every muscle of his body, agile as he always had been, to a horrendous extent.

His voice was dripping with his suppressed wrath; akin to acid. For he was, unjustly so, if you asked him, punished for a matter that, in his eyes, was deemed mundane. Why did he have to suffer under this horrible curse? A once proud Oni, a master of guns like no other, was reduced to this. . .

Skin colored a deep raven blue, nearly ashen. Teeth alabaster, sharp as kunai knives. Orbs glistening with mischief. His reptile mouth stretched a predatory, impish grin of anger and frustration.

He was called upon to breathe again, return to dwell in the land of the living, albeit uncannily, by the gods themselves. His duty clear as daylight; protect the foolish minx that dared resume such a disguise and ran straight towards her demise. Could she not see the folly behind her actions? Apparently. . . not one bit. If he was to voice a conjecture, he would claim the density of her nous reached levels beyond human -and inhuman- imagination. Kyo scowled, grunting in an undignified manner. In any case, Shiranui could undoubtedly recognize the girl, albeit very foolish, had guts to spare.

Firing a breath of searing flames, he crossed his tiny arms over his chest. The gesture only led him to curse uncouthly as it only acted to stress his plight. If he had a choice on the matter, he would rather transform into a mighty dragon; the very manifestation of fear, inspiring and commanding nothing less than reverence and awe. But _no. . ._ Instead of changing into the fearsome creature of the myths, he was turned into a creature of epicly –small- proportions.

Despite his apparent discomfort, induced by none other than his pitiful form, Shiranui could not stem the force of a wild raucous laughter upon an inner realization. For that snotty bastard, Kazama, also paid the price of their failure. Amagiri was also doomed in a fate far worse than his own, he thought wryly.

Cackling evilly, Kyo wordlessly concluded. He would show them all what he was able to do, demonstrate who really deserved to be called an Oni of fearsome power, who was meant to be a master of schemes and deceit, who was the one that could lift this curse and grant them back their dear freedom. After all, Kazama was _a freaking lame_ steed, Amagiri a good for nothing insect prone to be stomped to death at any given moment. Whereas he, albeit tiny, was, undoubtedly, a dragon; in an, admittedly, very far-fetched sense of the term, but still. . .

And as a dragon he shall roam.

* * *

Almond eyes veiled with worry and sadness, flickering weakly, watching intently, shrouded by the vast verdant beauty of Kyoto's flora. A chaste chant licking its way out of her rosy lips, a prayer towards the most benign gods . . . to help her overcome this. . .

Her mind was a convoluted mess; a mayhem of scattered thoughts was raging within her. Unprecedented anguish. A song of quivering breaths escaping her mouth treacherously. Paranoia crept over her, vines of trepidations claiming her resolve, smothering her.

Chizuru dared lift her slender arm hesitantly, gently imploring the numerous leaves to make way and finally allow her to take a proper glimpse of the-absolutely horrifying to her eyes- encampment up ahead.

She nibbled at her lower lip awkwardly, precariously close to drawing drops of scarlet blood. She curled her fingers around the scroll at her side; that horrendous piece of paper that spelled nothing but despair, served only as the bane of her very existence, culling her willpower, mental and physical strength away.

The moment her suave hues glanced upon the vast land ahead and noticed the barracks of the soldiers, she furled and fidgeted uncontrollably; a lump, like no other, that throttled her very breath and willpower alike, settled itself in her throat, proliferating the might of her fright, giving birth to rivers and rivers of acid that rendered her mouth arid beyond belief.

She heaved a sigh and brought her hands upon her chest plate, gripping at her clothes. Her heart was galloping, mourning, singing its own lullaby of distress and lament. This very gesture only acted to emphasize her plight. For the clothes she was clad in were nothing like her usual own; a sorrowful reminder of her mission and most dire situation.

A violent sway of the leaves suddenly roused her from her private reverie of self-pity. Chizuru whipped her head to the side, allowing her eyes to drift around searchingly.

"Who goes there?" she decided to demand in urgency and might she, only a moment ago, thought impossible to muster.

"It is I!" A voice boomed abruptly, making Chizuru shiver and flounder in consternation, bit at her lips anxiously.

Despite her evident trembling, the question that slipped past her lips, scarcely louder than a mutter, could not have been thwarted. "I . . . who?"

"Fool!" The vehemence of the response she received only led her to quiver further. "It is _I!_" the voice persisted. Chizuru gulped, very visibly and audibly so, and shook her head around insistently in silent surrender. She truly had no earthly clue as to who that person, or rather _being,_ was. She could do nothing but pay avid attention to the words that were offered to her and hypothesize.

Staring blankly at seemingly nowhere, she remotely acknowledged the thundering storm or raging thoughts, weaving further confusion inside her mind; ataxia and bewilderment she retained no hope of fighting against.

Was it. . . a ghost? A ghost of her ancestors awakened from the dead to literally hurl her back home for being impertinent enough to entertain the audacious thought of being, even remotely, as worthy as to pass as her twin, Kaoru, and bring honor to her family? Could it be?

"Heed my words!" the holler echoed and echoed and echoed in her ears incessantly. And heed she did, out of pure unadulterated terror and awe."If your identity is revealed, _woman_," the word punctuated purposefully, "the penalty is Death!"

A gasp, very unexpected in its sudden intensity, left her lips, trembling hands were brought to press at her arid mouth. "Wh-what should I do?" she mumbled, desperately seeking, imploring the heavens for a tiny ray of hope to guide her path— Could it be possible . . . that said hope was the appearance of this spirit creature whose voice weaved nothing but awe and fright inside her soul? She promptly received her answer.

"You need not fret. For I have come to ensure your disguise shall be ever concealed. I was sent by the Gods themselves to guide you in your path of deceit."

Chizuru hurried to kneel nervously, bowing so very deeply, that she could taste earth in her mouth. "I beseech you, o' great Spirit of the Heavens! Guide my path. Help me in my journey!"

A raucous cackle suddenly erupted, before the voice responded, "I acknowledge your begging pleas, woman! And I shall magnanimously comply with your wish."

A boisterous rustle of leaves put Chizuru in great alarm. It was a clear sign that the Noble Spirit was nearing and would soon appear in all its magnificent glory before her humble eyes. She pressed her forehead against the dirt in even greater vehemence, while the being continued, "Hence forth you have nothing to fear, for my omniscient self shall provide you with my vast knowledge and wisdom."

Instinctively, her gaze, bestowed naturally with curiosity, shot up, sensing that the Great Spirit had finally slid into view from behind the thick, serried bushes, and involuntarily her attention was diverted from his voice to his. . . form.

Realizing that her gaze towards the heavens did nothing to help her regard the creature –as it seemingly did not even tower her kneeling self- she cast her eyes downwards again, in search of the peculiar voice that so demandingly roused her and inflicted great apprehension and distress to befall her.

Her lips oddly parched as she, aghast, flabbergasted and gaping facetiously, was met with a very peculiar sight. Perhaps the strangest she had ever set her maroon eyes upon.

It was a minuscule salamander-like creature, as far as she could discern, eyesight clouded by a treacherous surge of disbelief. A whirlwind of questions was spinning furiously in her mind at the sight. Scouring around the numerous possibilities of this. . . ensemble. . . she found nothing satisfying.

The one characteristic that grasped her attention the very fist second she regarded the bizarre and outlandish creature was his bright sizzling violet eyes, glimmering like twin fires of indigo-colored molten lava. His body dark blue, nearly ebony, that offered a very magnificent contrast with his glowing foxy hues.

He suddenly grinned at her, ivory teeth shining in a predatory manner. "The name is Shiranui Kyo. Shiranui-sama for you."

In an unusual act of defiance, the horse which she had so fondly named Chikage, bore his front pair of hooves into the body of Shiranui with intensity that easily matched the burning frustration in his eyes. Over and over did the hooves collide with the small dragons body, every ounce of pent up frustration channeled into each clatter.

_"You deserted me!"_ Chikage growled inside of his mind, _"Then you have the nerve to show yourself before me in the body of such a sly beast!"_ He continued his assault with his hooves, over and over until exhaustion took over.

Chizuru vaulted maniacally, grasping the horse's body and struggling to push it away from the miniscule being. Her hands hauled Chikage back like a woman holding her lover back from a pointless fight between two men.

In the midst of chaos, she could distantly register the poor insect's maniacal chirrups. Chizuru was mostly certain the cricket's cage had been opened once more. Her assumption was verified the moment the now very familiar flash of crimson brushed across her eyes and came to land over the steed's golden mane.

Regardless of the dramatic –and very much facetious –scene Chizuru had to inhibit a rivulet of snickers from spilling out of her. Because, it ridiculously felt as though the lucky cricket was struggling to pull at the horse's hair and force it to withdraw, much like Chizuru did, aiding her in her endeavors.

"Chikage! Please, stop!" she pleaded in utter urgency. At this pace the salamander-like creature would be stomped to death any minute now.

The horse snorted, almost humanly, and ultimately abated, glowering at this ludicrous display of a creature that only a moment ago was suffering under his merciless hooves.

"Go—" his voice hoarse and rasp as the creature breathed out, "Go screw yourself, Kazama!" he spat out aggressively meeting the horse's glower with a insistent glare of his own. "You too, Amagiri!" he added seemingly as an afterthought.

Chizuru had to devote her utmost into restraining the horse from stomping the creature, claiming to be called Shiranui, once more.

_Kazama? Amagiri? _she inwardly wondered. Were those some kind of foreign words she had no hope of comprehending?

Pretending that dreadful stomping incident never transpired and that his ego was not in the least bit assailed, Shiranui dusted himself and cleared his throat, assuming a proud stance, steeling his incisive orbs upon her.

His fiery staring did anything but pacify her. Gulping nervously, she willed her vocal chords to work. "Wh-what are you?" Chizuru dared utter out, "A. . .a lizard?" she hesitantly spluttered; a faint clamor, impossible to thwart, slipping past her puffy lips.

"Lizard?" Shiranui parroted in disgust, cursing uncouthly behind gritted teeth. "Dragon." He gestured towards the entirety of his small physique. "_Dragon_! You really are as stupid as you look," he groaned in annoyance.

Chizuru assumed a very pain expression, marring her sweet, innocent features with a distinct sense of discomfort and unease. _Really. ._ . who was he that dared call her stupid? He was, necessarily, a talking lizard claiming to be a dragon. And that very realization also brought forth a very pressing matter she made sure to shortly point out.

"You. . . talk!" she stated more than asked, greatly striving to even articulate coherently.

Shiranui rolled his eyes indignantly and huffed. "No. You're denser than I thought," he mumbled mostly to himself.

"You. . . are," she dared start apprehensively, but was sadly interjected.

"Intimidating? Awe-inspiring?" he offered suddenly, guffawing in pride, flaunting his long dark tail around haughtily.

Chizuru only arched an inquisitive eyebrow, "Tiny."

Shiranui hardly managed to stem his gasp. Feigning the last conjecture did not affect him in the least, he countered, "Of course! I'm travel sized for your convenience!" he snorted once more. "If I was my real size, your cow here would die of fright!"

Apparently very much displeased by the comment, Chikage tapped his hoof against the earth threateningly. The sheer audacity of the spectacle had Chizuru wonder if, exactly, animals could entertain rational thoughts and makes sense of human –as human this being's words could be- speech.

Smirking arrogantly and yet in a very unforgivably lackluster manner, Shiranui resumed undeterred, "My powers are beyond your mortal imagination, girly," He winked impishly and abruptly leaped dexterously, magnificently landing at Chizuru's unsuspecting shoulder. She gasped at the sudden contact, and slowly veered to regard the creature resting at the side of her neck." For instance," he started again, hues gleaming in mischief, "My eyes can see _straight _through your clothes!"

Her rebuttal –if that could even be considered as such- was to slap his obtrusive self away in great ferocity, covering her humble chest with her hands as frantically as she could. Shiranui violently landed face-first on the ground, darting uncouth insults at the young woman and the animals alike.

It might have been a figment of Chizuru's imagination, but she was _uncannily_ sure she saw the horse smirking devilishly at the spectacle and heard a chirrup emanating from the folds of her manly clothes.

"Fuck! That's it!" the mysterious creature spat out vehemently. "Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Amagiri, aren't you Horsey's secretary? Make a note of this," he added, steeling his gaze at –presumably- someone who Chizuru was unable to discern, before diverting his attention back to the girl poignantly, throwing a tantrum."Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!"

"I am sorry, I am sorry!" she impulsively breathed out, embarrassment creeping at her voice, offering one more deep curtsey. He just touched a subject very dear and important to her. After all, dishonor was exactly what she was trying to eschew from the very first moment she decided to proceed with this maddening plan.

Chizuru crouched down and bowed deeply, stealing an askance furtive glace at Shiranui, who stared at her kneeling form intently. "Shiranui-san," she started tentatively. He only grimaced, evidently quite displeased by her refusal to address to him as Shiranui-sama as instructed. "I sincerely apologize!" she swallowed hardly." I am sorry for hitting you."

Shiranui gulped, struggling to rid himself of the overwhelming surge of frustration, that he now felt invading his senses. Ire evoked by the mere fact that he was so ridiculously tiny enough to be bulldozed by a weak girl such as Chizuru was. His apologies mattered for him not. His pained and unforgivably assailed ego, though, was another –very much worrying and alarming- matter entirely.

He huffed and craned his neck to the side, making his tiny bones crack emphatically."Foolish woman. Attacking the lone man that can help ya." He sneered, mentally scorning himself, because, no matter how greatly he felt and regarded himself as such, he was no man at this point.

"You. . . can. . ." Chizuru released a deep sigh that was held captive in her lungs, "-really . . . help me? How?" she dared inquire.

Shiranui rolled his eyes. "Hm? You think you can trust that fucking snow-cow over there or the ladybug to help ya?" he let out a poignant bark of laughter, "I was, still _is,_ mind you, a man of caliber! Ain't none that can help ya better than I can."

In response to the haughty declaration, Chikage neighed in irritation. If only he was the one that could make use of human speech instead of Shiranui. . .

Chizuru blinked innocently in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Shiranui slapped his tiny palm against his lizard-like visage indignantly. "Do you even know how to be a man, girly? I bet you haven't even been deflowered yet."

She tensed. Bloody red came to mar Chizuru's cheeks, a blatant sign of her systole and her lingering taste of utter discomfort. Must he stress matters so deeply? This... this had nothing to do with –

"What do you say?" he cocked a lizard-ly eyebrow at her, crossing his tiny arms over his sternum and tapping a small foot against the ground insistently.

Only then he realized that his palms and fingers itched horribly. How greatly he wished to reach for his precious guns and demonstrate how fearsome he truly was, compel the girl to heed his words and revere him in all his glory. But, alas, no gun was at his disposal at the moment. It made him feel empty, inane, incomplete. As much as he wanted to lament, wallowing in sentimentality would serve no purpose at this point.

A wistful pout played upon Chizuru's lips. Truly, she had no earthly clue of how to carry herself, treat the other men, respond to their queries in a seemly manner. She never had any kind of –even remotely- similar experience to harness in order to fabricate _and_ see a plausible to an end.

"I do not know. . ." she finally uttered out. It was, naturally, a very difficult concept to digest. Not only will she have to suffer and plunge herself in the deepest, most fearsome of pits, but she would have to do it escorted by the most peculiar creature she had ever set her eyes upon. A creature that was not even bestowed with a proper name or definition, for she, still, could not comprehend if Shiranui was a dragon, a lizard, a salamander, or just a figment of her wild imagination. If he was the latter, she had every right to drown herself very promptly. After all, talking to an imaginary friend could not, under any circumstances, pass as a fortunate sign. She could only hope the creature was, truly, breathing and real, regardless of how disturbing this very thought alone was. Chizuru had to make do with whatever was given to her.

"Don't know what?" he nearly growled. "I am not gonna beg, ya know. You are the one who needs my services; not the other way around, girly."

"I mean—" Chizuru hurried to rectify, "I don't know how to be a man. I am. . . not Kaoru," she mumbled, voice quivering as she thought of her lost, but dear, sibling. She greatly willed herself to believe she could magically transform herself as her brother. But, no matter what, a voice within her whispered her truths she was now unable to bear; that she was not.

That, of course, did not connote that she should resign and rescind her plans, halting all her attempts before they could even properly commence. After all, the Heavens themselves brought Shiranui upon her path to guide her. She should and could utilize a helping hand-regardless of its size- and devote the entirety of her psyche to a very clear and steady objective. She, admittedly, was in grave need of whatever aid she could get in this... greatest of the greatest shenanigans the world had ever seen.

Another prayer towards the heavens; Honor her family.

"Please, " the words slipped past her lips as a trembling lullaby, "I am counting on you." , However humiliating it was in itself, she bowed deeply, her beautiful eyes shut closed.

He let out a victorious chortle, "That's what I am talking about, girly!" Shiranui exclaimed enthusiastically. "And no slapping or I'll bite your hand off."

A slight sway of her hair alert her that the dragon-like being had tapped his fingers upon her scalp, gesturing at her to straighten her posture. The moment she did, Shiranui did not hesitate to leap at her shoulder yet again. This time, Chizuru thought nothing ill of it. She regarded it as a consummation of their pact instead.

"Now, tell Horsey to get my bags, and ladybug can—"

But, alas, Shiranui, lamentably, never managed to finish his sentence. For Chikage thought it very proper and befitting to huff indignantly at his direction, a windy force Shiranui was truly unable to parry, and had him land at Chizuru's feet; very ridiculously so.

* * *

**Authors' Notes**

* * *

Many of you guessed right. Mulan was indeed our wonderful inspiration for this story. With that being said, buckle your seat-belts, and happily wait for the next chapter! _Many_ lovely people will make their appearance! Let's prepare to welcome them all with a generous applaud! As for the characters that have already made their debut, did anyone guess Shiranui's role as our beloved Mushuu? How about Chizuru's dazzling white horse? He is quite charming, isn't he?

Thank you for reading!

Reviewers will get special autographs from _'Snow-Cow', 'Ladybug_' and '_Salamander'! _Every review is a gentle stoke on Chikage's golden mane! Or a kick if you wish, but we surely prefer a simple caress. He is very moody when angered._  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you _**CamillaFierce,XxSapphire-fandomsxX, Marialena-Princess Of The Moon, Pale Blossom, OniKuShita, Lunardusk, Wings Of Silver Wishes, 5namida **_and_** Nagato-Chan19**_ for your lovely reviews._

_To _**Pale Blossom_: _**_We, really__, cannot blatantly reveal everything yet. Read on and your question will be answ__ered!_

_-And here we are again, I hope you all enjoyed reading the last chapter we published as much as we did writing it! We have so much planned for you to enjoy so be sure to keep an eye on our future updates! Sorry if you felt there was a delay, I've been busy playing Kyoukaroku and giggling over Kazama pulling a duckface...There isn't much to say here apart from I'm now going by a new pen-name, the old one held too many painful memories so I felt a fresh start was required! So I guess I should reintroduce myself – I am the co-author now known as Pookax (points to you if you know where I get the name Pooka from) or if you prefer, Emi._

_Pookax_

_-Thank you for reading and thank you for your kind support. We apologize for the slight delay. My University obligations, a car accident, family matters etc kept me away from writing as much as I'd have liked to during holidays. We are very enthusiastic about this story and what follows certain scenes. That is why we hope you are as excited as we are for future updates. Please enjoy! Many new people appear in this chapter, so keep your eyes peeled!_

_Aen Silver Fire_

* * *

**Worth Fighting For **

**~Chapter 3~**

* * *

The encampment stretched for what felt like, to her untrained eyes, miles. Lines upon lines of propped up canvas tents swayed gently against the breeze. Anxiety began to eat away at her insides as she realized that this was her destination and there was no chance of turning back without causing a ruckus. She began to tell herself over and over that she had come this far, even with a little entourage of critters both great and small, and she had no choice but to see this through to its conclusion no matter how dire it may be.

Reluctantly she led the horse, Chikage, to a adequate albeit small stabled area which thankfully had a bountiful supply of hay and water. A small smile graced her lips as she leaned forward to press her body against its firm stature in a gentle embrace, so not to spook the temperamental beast, her fingers toyed once again with his golden mane. She had become quite attached to this magnificent steed despite its very unique personality. "You will be catered to, Chikage, do not worry and enjoy the hospitality!" Her voice hushed as she continued, "Also... Please, ignore Shiranui-san, he's just trying to push you so he see how foul your temper truly is."

So that is what a woman's embrace felt like, Kazama thought. This young girl had introduced to him a myriad of new feelings, each of which he struggled to understand. And now he was left, all alone, in a warm stable which was certain to become his new home. A part of him felt incredibly uneasy, what if the girl was never to return and he was trapped here or worse, adopted by some obese lord with little thought on hygiene? No... He told himself, he had not grown fond of the girl with big brown expressive eyes and a dense mind, he certainly had not.

"Feeling a bit down? Don't tell me you're getting attached to the girl-boy?" A voice hissed from beneath him, laced with torment and arrogance through and through. "You're naught but a cow now, waddling from place to place, with a gender-bender for a rider."

_'Do not test me, Shiranui.'_ Kazama wished he had the ability to scowl, to make many a face in frustration at the man, lizard, who proudly stood before him.

"Whatever happened to those dreams of yours, plaguing the world with many of your miniature Oni babes? At this rate, you'll do better finding seven mules and taking this sad show of snow-cow and the seven mules on the road."

Defiant neighs erupted from the stable.

Speaking of the wily lizard, she wasn't quite sure where he had disappeared off to as he was so fast on those little stumpy legs of his. He would likely pop up somewhere where she least expected it, that did seem the type of stunt Shiranui would pull on her poor heart.

For a military encampment, she had to admit, it truly only looked to be a manor set upon a vast plot of land which, along with the tents, reached as far the eye can see. It had to be one of many encampments as there had to be so many new recruits due to the conscription notices every family received.

She found herself wandering aimlessly for a while across the vast grounds in a daze. She would definitely need to learn the layout of the land and commit it to her memory to avoid getting lost in the future. The sweet scent of flowers tickled at her nostrils and when she finally brought her eyes from the floor, she found herself in a small courtyard surrounded by the most beautiful blooms she had ever seen.

"Aah..." She smiled to herself, completely none the wiser to the pair of indigo eyes set firmly upon her back. "To think that men manage to find the time to grow flowers in a military encampment-"

"And what do you think you are doing?" A gentle voice called from behind. She, in urgency, snapped her head towards the location the voice emanated whipping her hair wildly as she did so. The man behind her was quite tall with hair reaching down past his shoulders in the deepest shade of black imaginable. The folding fan which he wafted back and forth, to shoo the humidity, only further accentuated his overly feminine features. She knew this man from somewhere, yet her brain could not place this face to a name and it only puzzled her further.

"O-oh! I apologise..." She waved her hands in front of her body over and over, her cheeks involuntarily heating up from embarrassment, her body quickly descended into a deep bow, "I... got lost, I apologise. I am here as I was called upon through a conscription notice."

"A new recruit, hm?" The man hummed to himself as wicked smile curved on his lips, "Then you should surely be with the other men unless you'd rather I brought you to the Vice-Commander so you could introduce yourself to him and explain precisely what you were doing in this inner courtyard alone in a time of war..."

"I-I... The Vice-Commander?" She spluttered, disbelief rife in her voice.

"Yes, you had better explain yourself to him and quickly, follow me." The folding fan in his hand snapped shut further implicating the need to hurry.

She had heard the rumors surrounding the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi, none of them all too pleasant. He had no time for fools and even less time for those he deemed unfit.

Thoughts circulated through her mind as she followed the man down many of the winding hallways until he stopped before a sliding door, calling out his intentions to enter in the most insufferable polite tone he could muster. With little choice but to follow him in, she too made a rather undignified entrance and was quickly shoved to her knees in front of a stern faced man whose icy glare froze her on the spot.

Her body bent forward into a polite bow before her Vice-Commander, the demon of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata. The man who seemed all too familiar to her caught her eye, his indigo slits weighing up her worth merely from her outward appearance. Her lower lip was soon being torn apart, teeth working overtime due to the overwhelming anxiety as neither man said anything directly to her and she wasn't quite sure of the correct etiquette when it came to introducing one's self to their superior for the very first time.

"Name?" The frustrated man spoke, hand resting upon his forehead in disbelief. With so many new recruits, he had been working more and more over time in trying to contain the reckless behaviour they so frequently brought with them. Uncouth, untrained and a damned pain in the backside, he thought, how could things have ever come to this...

"Yukimura, sir, Ch-" she caught herself before uttering her given name, "Yukimura Kaoru, sir." For days now she had been referring to herself as Kaoru, forcibly eradicating the need to present herself as Chizuru yet in the first instance of feeling pressure, she almost gave herself away to the very man who would surely execute a woman for being so bold to waltz in a compound of men in such a disguise.

"Yukimura, hrm? To think, you'd leave such a lovely sister behind with no one to care for her well-being..." The man from earlier retorted, a sly smile gracing his otherwise delicate features.

"Itou-san, that is enough." The Vice-Commander, Hijikata, interrupted. "Now, Yukimura, explain to me as to why my advisor has brought you before me."

After a long and detailed explanation, Chizuru down-turned her gaze to the floor and patiently awaited her judgement.

Would her journey end before it had truly begun or would the demon of the Shinsengumi take pity on her plight?

"So, after receiving the conscription notice from your sister – you immediately made your way here on horseback and despite your haste, you arrived a day late. Usually I would be in charge of administering adequate punishment for your misgivings, but even I know that having received the paper in such short notice, there would be little chance of arriving on time from such a far off town... I'll take pity on you this once but any more mistakes and you're gone, Yukimura, I cannot afford to have tardy men within the ranks."

"I-I..." she paused and bowed her head down as low as she could manage, her forehead touching the mat beneath her, she continued with a murmur, "Thank you, sir."

"Now, get out of my sight." He sighed, "Your only choice of a bed is with several other men known for their rowdiness so it would be prudent for you to go and introduce yourself. Be gone."

Without needing to be told twice, Chizuru heaved herself from the floor and exited the room, not before bowing once again to show her gratitude to the Vice-Commander. He certainly wasn't as frightening as the rumors told, there was even a hint of peculiar kindness in his voice. As she walked away from the room she swore she heard the man, now known to be called Itou, question the Vice-Commander's decision of letting her go so easily.

Reluctantly, she willed her legs to move forwards. Chizuru heaved a sigh, racking a trembling hard through her tightly-secured hair, lamenting once more for the abrupt loss of her once long, playful and charming locks. Even the ruthless knots that usually formed on their moderate length would be welcomed now; anything to distract her from the horrid fact that she could retain neither her long hair nor her identity.

"Marvelous," a –now disturbingly familiar- voice groaned, "You are as bright as the sun."

Chizuru abruptly veered to the side to regard the owner. She blinked repeatedly, her long –not at all manly- eyelashes fluttering with the gesture. The dragon was nowhere to find. A peck at her back signalized that he had actually been hiding behind her black traveling haori all the while she was submitted under Hijikata's frigid and austere glare.

She shrugged her shoulders, wordlessly telling him to move from his hiding place for her to properly face him. In a very unexpected display of obedience, the creature complied and reared his head from beneath the haori to stare at her intently, eyes narrowing at her briefly. The girl heaved a sigh, and frowned slightly upon realizing that from Shiranui's own shoulder, the lucky cricket was peering over at her closely.

Strange. A moment ago she would have thought of them as nothing but enemies. At least, Shiranui seemed to regard the other two animals in her company as such. She had long ago resigned to her fate. She did not retain even a single tiny hope of comprehending why Shiranui was calling Chikage with the name Kazama or why he was referring to subjects very much outlandish to her, when she accidentally happened to sight them whispering to each other. To be more precise, Shiranui was doing the whispering, whereas the beautiful steed did nothing but neigh and stomp his hooves against the turf angrily. She only hoped this was a modest manifestation of communication between creatures of the animal kingdom, a normal interaction of sorts, and not a blatant sign of herself being relentlessly deluded by ghosts; or worse.

"What do you mean?" she dared question, breath escaping in deep weary sighs, indicative of her trepidation and anxiety.

"Heh," he snorted and shook his head exasperatedly. "Do you even know how to get to your tent?"

Her already very hesitant steps were abruptly halted. Quite frankly, she had no earthly clue as towards where she was heading; much like she had none when the Military Advisor detected her and brought her before the Vice-Commander only previously. Of course, it would be ludicrous, brazen to say the least and very unbecoming to return back to Hijikata's office and ask for directions. He was the Vice-Commander; no one to mess around with. The only other person she knew was the ebony-haired man named Itou, and she was more than disinclined to direct her query to him. If push came to shove, though, she would be left with no other choice.

Resuming her disorientated steps, she stilled her gaze downwards, locking her cinnamon colored eyes at her shoes— until another pair suddenly slid into view. At the sight of the person, she distinctively felt the agile petite form of Shiranui shift in the folds of her clothing, retreating back to his hiding place. This was, in a strange way, a form of reassurance she was not turning demented. Because, if the creature needed to hide from prying eyes, then that connoted it was really alive and existing and very much visible; not just a figment of her imagination, an illusion her nous created just to strengthen a false reality of reassurance and provide consolation when there was none. Unbeknownst to her, another sigh of relief left her lips.

She slowly raised her head to cast her sullen gaze upon the person before her. She was met with a sight of a solemn man with bright sharp purple eyes, hair colored a sweet brown and cut short, except from a low strand of hair brushing over his back.

"Why are you here? Are you a new recruit?" he suddenly questioned, voice, eyes and expression painfully void of any coherent emotion.

Chizuru needed to gulp before replying, "I am. . ." It was quite obvious she had probably been padding towards the wrong direction. Why else would a soldier demand her to explain why she had been there? And, naturally, Chizuru did not, in any possible way, wish to be hurled in front of Hijikata again for snooping around places she was not supposed to.

"Is that all you have to say, girly?" a low groan from Shiranui whispering to her ear, had her involuntarily shudder, jaw clenching in self-accusation. Was that really all she could handle to utter out, all she could muster? This was nothing but the very start of her herculean struggle. If she wished for this mission to meet an end, to be feasible in the first place, she had better start embolden herself, strengthen her defenses and commence a proper plan of attack; or, at least, attempt to.

The man allowed his incisive hues to wander the entirety of her physique, before returning to still his eyes upon her face. If he wished to pose another query, Chizuru could not know. Because she suddenly find it to herself to rouse decisively and demonstrate enough bravery as to ask what she needed to, whilst a, impossible to conceal, shadow of mental pain and strain was looming over her features.

"Please, please direct me to my tent!"

* * *

The well-calculated words Saito Hajime just paid only acted to stir the room into –even rowdier than normal, which was a perfect cause for concern by itself- action. He uttered his conjecture callously, in nonchalance that could only pass only when pointing out mundane matters such as the weather. And yet, Saito's remark could hardly be described as mundane. On the contrary, it was a very pressing and alarming matter, that after being pointed out, did anything but put his comrades at ease.

Okita cocked an eyebrow and, in a nonetheless lackluster manner, that had always been one of his characteristic traits, decided to ask, "Is this certain, Hajime-kun?"

The mere fact that the taciturn swordsman took the liberty to note what he did, could only mean that Saito, too, most likely, was starting to feel the fingers of discomfort snaking their way around his neck. For Souji, though, the issue at hand was not solely unpleasant. He chose to regard it a magnificent chance to hone the power and better the severity of the impact of his witty remarks instead, whilst also allowing himself to be thoroughly entertained. "How did you come by this information?"

Saito heaved an inaudible sigh, "It is to be expected, isn't it, Souji?"

The green-eyed man titled his head to the side, almost playfully, "Hm?"

At the far left side of the tent Toudou shook his head fiercely and batted his eyes twice, struggling to organize his scattered thoughts and conclude to what, exactly, Saito was aiming to convey after this. . . revelation of sorts. "What are you talking about, you two?" the innocent, albeit quite worried, veneer of his voice only stressed Heisuke's surprise and trepidation.

Hajime wordlessly inclined his head and pointed his gaze at the bunks situated in the tent, that only moments ago they all still fought over. Frail-looking wooden sets of two beds, lined up at the west side of the cumbersome exclusively canvas-covered room, were deemed enough to host soldiers hailing from all clans and families of Japan. Despite their _particular circumstances_, this group was also meant to be given sleeping quarters, similar to those of all the other men. None could argue or complain about this state of affairs. The only objective at hand was to bolster the Shinsengumi's power, win the War against the Choshuu, not whine over negligible details such as the distribution of tents was.

After a sharp intake of breath, Hajime voiced the obvious, "The beds can contain six people."

A raucous groan with an accompanying scowl followed Saito's words. Nagakura blinked in bewilderment and titled his head to the side. He gyrated and wiggled around himself for a moment, tapping a finger at his chin skeptically, and earning an incredulous askance glace from Harada in the process. ". . . three, four, five. . ." Shinpachi mumbled pensively, whilst swirling around.

Until Sanosuke thought it fit and proper to finally put an abrupt end to this tragic and facetious display. Groaning behind gritted teeth, Sano took matters in his own dependable hands by placing one of his toned ones at Shinpachi's shoulder and forcefully halting him in his tracks. "Stop rotating like a whirligig! The beds are freaking six!" Harada spat out, putting more pressure at his grip emphatically.

It was really a wonder how a man of high-standing, as Shinpachi truly was, hailing from a proper samurai family, could demonstrate such density at times. The most probable cause of it was the man's genuinely kind nature. This very nature, though, was nowhere to be found when Shinpachi assumed a fighting stance and readied himself to prove his worth as a proper swordsman. And, consequently, the fearsome side of Nagakura Shinpachi could not, even remotely, be gazed upon at the moment, when he was being nothing but jolly.

Frowning at Sanosuke's indignant reaction, Shinpachi snorted at his closest friend and promptly veered to regard Saito. "So?" Shinpachi wondered.

"Saito means to say, Shinpachi," Sanosuke pinned his friend down with another stare, before finally releasing him from his painful grip. Shinpachi faintly grimaced, stubbornly deciding against rubbing the sore spot that Sano left in his wake, seemingly unperturbed by the forceful gesture. "-that one more person needs to sleep here."

"No way!" Heisuke's violent proclamation had Souji curl his lips into a crooked dissatisfied smile. The riled boy's voice was, admittedly, too clamorous for his own -and the others'- good. "We gave our damnest to get a tent all to ourselves! We were trying to convince Hijikata-san through our blood and sweat again and again! And now that we finally did—"

"Yes, yes!" Shinpachi readily agreed, providing Heisuke with the leverage and incentive he needed to continue.

"Why should an intruder comes waltzing in? This tent is ours."

"Because we are five, Heisuke," Saito nonchalantly insisted, deadpan, moving towards his own bunk, that, unfortunately for the man, had been right next to the boisterous boy's, above Sanosuke's own.

"Your words are not self-explanatory, Hajime-kun." Heisuke pointed an accusing finger at the taciturn man, tapping his foot against the ground in a desperate attempt to make Saito halt and properly turn to face him, reiterate his first argument carefully and further clarify. For it still made no sense to Heisuke's eyes why he, no, _they_ should share what they so greatly strove to acquire for themselves with a man of probably questionable background, whom they had never encountered in their lives nor were particularly willing to.

"Your possessiveness is a little worrying, Heisuke. _Ours? _Did you pee at the corners to assure ownership?" Sanosuke laughed under his breath at the ludicrous mental image that he suddenly created.

Heisuke growled in agitation and scowled poignantly at the man, momentarily tearing his gaze away from the reticent left-handed swordsman, "That is not funny, Sano-san!"

"The new recruits are numerous," Saito finally decided to note in order to put an abrupt end to the imminent scuffle he could clearly see lurking in the horizon, should Harada decided to retort. "The Vice-Commander is already struggling to divide men in divisions, fairly distribute the provisions and dispense the tents. Should the need arise, a person will have to be placed in our tent."

"B-but!" Heisuke cried out, his agitation creeping up at his voice in even more pronounced manner. A melancholic expression settled itself on his face, clouding his –otherwise mirthful- teal eyes with a cloak of despondency.

Much to Heisuke's chagrin, "I do not reckon you have a choice on the matter," Saito uttered out lowly, voice laced with a great sense of dreadful finality.

"Well, to be honest," Shinpachi started, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest, "Hijikata-san will yell up a storm if we dare complain."

"That goes without saying," Sanosuke agreed, moving to sit at his own mattress, right next to Souji's. "And it leaves a sour taste in my mouth to complain again. The fact that we know Hijikata-san, Sannan-san and Kondou-san from our Shieikan days does not mean we should exploit them. That's very unmanly. We shouldn't have asked to be put together in the first place."

"Hm?" Souji suddenly perked up, leaning closer to the bunk next to his own, where Sanosuke was seated, eyes narrowing briefly, "Why can't we exploit what we can, Sano-san? Don't tell me you regret being put in the same tent as us. . ."

Nagakura's azure eyes widened in shock and trepidation, "Is that true, Sano? _Is it_?" he nearly cried out. "You're a—"

"Calm down, Shinpachi. I never said I regret it," Sanosuke insisted, snorting loudly at their paralogism.

"Then why did you—"

"I concur with Sano," Hajime nonchalantly remarked once again, closing his eyes for a brief moment pensively, at the same time putting an abrupt end to Shinpachi's imminent complaining tantrum. "The Vice-Commander had been kind enough to allow this absurdity on our part. I won't allow him to be further exploited by—"

"Oi, oi, Hajime-kun," Souji interjected, pulling himself into a standing position, "First, wasn't Kondou-san the one that gave the final approval? And second, don't use 'exploit' so callously again and again. You make it sound like we are criminals."

"Even though I cannot deny the Commander's authority and clemency, the Vice-Commander is the one in charge of dividing the troops," Saito insisted, "And you used this word yourself just a minute ago," he countered, casting an askance glance at his comrade, not fully turning to regard him.

Souji rolled his eyes, releasing a sigh of frustration. "It was a figure of speech. And Sano-san used it first, mind you."

"Don't lay the blame on me now," the russet-haired man protested, furrowing his eyebrows at the infamous green-eyed prankster. "And we did take advantage of our connections, don't deny that, Souji."

Okita huffed dramatically in indignation, rolling his eyes at the -not at all subtle- implication. Was is that unrighteous to kindly ask for a tent for all past comrades of Shieikan to be put together? Their request was not unreasonable nor it was particularly troublesome, Souji thought. Placing a list of familiar names in the same tent could hardly be that great of a nuisance for the Vice-Commander, right?

It was undoubtedly true that Hijikata-san vehemently refused their application at first. Shortly after, though -exactly as Heisuke remarked, through their blood and sweat, since Hijikata-san is no easy man to convince- they managed to be placed in sleeping quarters full of men of their trust, their friends. It was to be expected that none of the men would happily welcome the notion that a stranger could rupture the pleasant atmosphere of camaraderie they had created here. Still—

An awry, sardonic smile soon came to play upon Souji's lips. A gleam of mischief started burning strong in his bright green eyes, that started glowing in great intensity. A sudden possibility presented itself to him, causing his shrewd smile to be more emphatically pronounced, "Ne, why don't we scare the lad away?"

"Eh?" Heisuke abruptly veered, almost vaulted closer to the other man. Suddenly the very prospect of being mischievous on another's, most definitely a completely unwanted weakling's, expense brought a tint of glee in Heisuke's grim expression. "What do you have in mind, Souji?" Completely by instinct all men leaned closer, staring intently at Okita.

"Simple," Souji winked devilishly, "Shock him enough for him to demand to change tents."

"That's. . ." Shinpachi rubbed the nape of his neck skeptically, "-not a bad idea, but—"

"Doesn't that mean we'll get another one then?" Sanosuke finished Shinpachi's trail of thought.

"Not if we pester Hijikata-san enough." Souji snickered impishly.

At that, Hajime could not help but protest, "Souji!" As he had specifically declared moments ago, Saito Hajime would not allow, if he could have a say in it, his Vice-Commander to be exploited or even remotely annoyed. Especially when the person at the opposite side of the receiving end, Hijikata, was Souji.

"Stop being a mood-killer, Hajime-kun. I promise no blood will be spilled."

Souji's promise did little to pacify Hajime; it put him in greater alarm instead. For, if Souji did not aim to draw blood, then he surely had devised a hellish plan to conduct, instead. And certain times, Hajime would prefer watching rivers of blood saturating the earth with deep scarlet rather than being coerced to watch Souji's schemes come to fruition; such was the sheer absurdity of his machinations.

"Stop complaining and listen to my plan," Okita persisted. He allowed on more sinister grin to settle on his expression and promptly commenced explaining thoroughly. And Saito Hajime could only sigh and sigh, until no amount of air could satisfy his insistent exhalations.

* * *

"Do you understand?" the man stressed again, eyeing Chizuru carefully. His persistence, albeit helpful, had Chizuru frown. He must have regarded her as someone very dense. And the worst thing of all was that she had no way to prove him wrong in her current -quite lost and convoluted- state.

"Yes," she finally assured, shaking her head affirmatively. "Third tent after I cross this lane." She pointed where he showed her to emphasize that she had, indeed, understood him.

"On the right," he insisted, arching an eyebrow worryingly at her.

"Yes, on the right!" Chizuru repeated, attempting to smile confidently. "Thank you, Yamazaki-san." She bowed deeply to the kind man, thanking the heavens that she happened upon him the most optimal time. What, really, could the repercussions have been if another man, of less patience and understanding, were to have encountered her here? She would probably be killed for a wholly different reason that being a woman; for being a prying spy.

"Please make sure not to get lost again," he advised, eyes narrowing at her inquisitively, "Yukimura-kun, is it?"

"Yes," she confirmed. It surprised Chizuru a great deal how much more calmly she had managed to utter the name Yukimura Kaoru, instead of her own, when the man introduced himself moments ago. Of course, her words were not uttered nearly as calmly as they were supposed to, but, still, for Chizuru the fact that she was bettering each time she greeted a person was only a cause for joy.

"You need not worry about me, Yamazaki-san. I am certain I will find my way," she attempted to reassure again in response to Yamazaki's intense gaze of concern. The brown-haired man heaved a worried sigh, but ultimately decided against pressing any further.

"I-I'll be on my way," she finally bid farewell, relieving him from the arduous task of putting up with her bewilderment, and silently trod towards the lane she was instructed to follow. Heaving a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing pattern, lifting a hand and clasping it close to her chest, upon her galloping, beleaguered with unease heart.

"Eyes on the road, _Kaoru," _Shiranui stressed the name, dragging out the last syllables emphatically. "And, just so you know, if you continue with all these ridiculous pleasantries, you are going to be kicked out in a matter of seconds."

Chizuru suddenly felt the overwhelming need to huff and complain for his disturbing remarks. She needed no meaningless advice from— On a second thought, that's _exactly_ what she needed Shiranui for; advice. What could have passed as a negligible detail for others, was a crucial matter of life and death for Chizuru, quite literally. For, if it was revealed that she was, actually, a woman the only thing that awaited her was a gruesome, horrible death. She had to keep reminding herself that insistently.

"Wh-what did I do wrong this time?" she stammered out, biting at her lip in agitation; agitation directed solely towards her own self. Why couldn't she be more knowledgeable and better-adapting to wry situations?

His first response was to slap her cheek with his tail, making her slightly wriggle in annoyance. "You are too kind, girl! Oh sorry, _boy_." He scowled mockingly. "You are acting like a freaking woman. Let me remind you, kid, you are no longer one!" he added with a great sense of admonishing insistence. "Regardless of what you have between your legs, aren't you supposed to be Kaoru now?" he slanted his eyebrow upwards emphatically.

"Y-yes," she nodded, swallowing in trepidation. Arguing with the tiny dragon would serve no purpose at all. And, the most disturbing detail of all was that he was undoubtedly right through and through. "What should I do then? I. . . don't understand."

Shiranui rolled his eyes and huffed, "Be more curt," he simply spat out. "And I was serious before. Eyes on the road. You don't want to miss your tent, do you?

"Even if you say so. . ." she murmured, heaving a deep sigh indicative of her tiredness. Suddenly, her steps were ceased. Only to be replaced by a massive throbbing pain of agony. She pivoted around slowly to stare at the thick cloth surrounding the secluded area that would soon officially become her sleeping quarters.

This was it. Her tent stood proudly before her, almost whispering to her threats; devour her inescapably, eat away at her life.

A small nudge at the nape of her neck suddenly served as a reminder that she was not completely left alone to plummet into the depths of the unknown. She had Shiranui, her tiny talking dragon, her lucky cricket colored like blood itself, and a proud, beautiful horse waiting for her at the stabled area of the encampment. She was _not_ alone. And. . . She was not even a _she_ anymore.

She- _He_ was Yukimura Kaoru, and he would never hesitate again, for such was the path unfolding in the horizon, that demanded her—no, _him_ to demonstrate fortitude, valor, bravery and not cowardice. She did not retain the luxury of doubt or apprehension. She was stripped away of her innocence, of her womanly nature, of her freedom; the only thing Chizuru still needed to do is discard her fears, fist her hands and march forwards.

The thought deposited itself into her mind with resolute conviction as she made one decisive; albeit very small, step. Completely against her will, her breath escaped in shallow desperate bursts. She paled and gulped, willing her hand to move and push the canvas of the entrance aside. She squinted her eyes, fighting against the hammering pain against her ribcage. She tapped her foot against the ground, refusing her disabling uncertainly and neared.

"Kyaaa!"

* * *

**Authors' Note**

* * *

_And on we go into the den of wolves! The mystery man of the first chapter was finally revealed here*cough*Itou*cough*. Many of you tried to guess his identity. Few to none succeeded... do not fret, though! The request for you to match which Hakuoki character is who in the Mulan Universe is still pending, although most of the crucial characters have already been revealed. We are still accepting guesses. _

_Due to certain circumstances we have no control over, the next chapter might be a little delayed. Rest assured, though. We are working on it as much as we can. We apologize in advance. _

_Thanks for reading! Your nice comments can only bring us joy, so, please, do not hesitate to leave us with your thoughts if you enjoyed this chapter.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you _**XxSapphire-fandomsxX, OniKuShita, Marialena-Princess Of The Moon **_and_** 5namida** _for kindly reviewing!_

_-Hi everyone and I hope you all enjoy our latest chapter, this one is much larger than we expected it to be! I hope you all enjoy the ride and of course, if you have any feedback, do not hesitate to leave reviews! We both love reading them!_

_Pookax_

_-Oh goodness! This chapter turned out enormous. Honestly. . . this was not our intention. Can this compensate for delaying this chapter a little bit? Anyway, I really do hope you'll enjoy reading it. New -and yet not so new- characters are also to be introduced here. Enjoy Chizuru's embarrassing moments as she bravely ventures into the land of men, while desperately trying to not get infatuated with any of them! What an arduous task indeed. . . _

_Aen Silver Fire_

* * *

**Worth Fighting For **

**~Chapter 4~**

* * *

"Kyaaa!" Numerous voices called out, masculine pitches reaching the heavens, compelling the gears in Chizuru's head to screech to an abrupt stop. The bass veneer of the unbidden hollers almost passed unnoticed behind this unsettling feeling that overwhelmed Chizuru; an unprecedented assault towards her ears and sanity alike. And the accusation that followed was even more disturbing and misplaced, certainly beyond affronting, "Pervert!"

"P-pervert?" The rude exclamations had her teeth almost clattering. How could this happen? How could one ever accuse Chizuru, of all people, of such a hideous practice as. . . perversion? It was a concept impossible to digest. And, at any rate, the group of, certainly very imposing, men standing only a few steps away from her, carrying themselves with a sense of manliness she had no hope of ever mustering, was not at all clad in indecent, or exposing, practically half-worn clothing. In truth they were fully dressed, watching her intently, features tingling with blatant accusation and yet with a hint of amusement.

She was denied the freedom to study them further by an assaulting object aimed directly at her face. A surprised, disorientated yelp slipped past Chizuru's lips.

"Stupendous manners you have there . . . storming in and invading our territory like that. Do you even know what the punishment is for snooping around other people's tents? After kneeling in apologies, I suggest you turn and kindly rid us of your presence before I decide to personally refer you— no, _kick _your sorry butt to the Shinsengumi's Oni Fukucho, _lewd_ little bastard," an unidentified man spat out, voice akin to sneering acid.

She desperately wanted to shed tears of despair. Alas, Chizuru's cries were muffled by a currently unidentified article of clothing, that she couldn't bring herself to even remove from her face. For many lengthy moments she was, and not inexplicably at all, frozen in place, shocked by the sudden boisterous outbursts and by the certainly crooked manner in which the offense was directed at her.

She dearly wished to assume a proper manly posture of pride and declare to all that she had no sly intention in mind and that, of course, she was not at all fond of being hurled, whilst sniffling, to Hijikata for another misdeed. Gulping, she concluded that the imminent threat of facing Hijikata-san's wrath had already started being a horrendous possibility, a true menace by itself. . . and it was only day one.

Unable to place ache was nibbling away at her innards. Why was she so abruptly attacked without being asked to even offer a simple excuse, not even a word to defend herself? She. . .did not mean to intrude. And, most importantly, what was the object of the attack?

"I suggest you remove that off your face," a low voice growled, emanating from the nape of the neck. She quickly acknowledged it belonging to her dark blue dragon companion, Shiranui.

Her trembling hands were reluctantly raised, fazed beyond human belief to make contact with the fabric that covered the entirety of her features. In response to her quaking with terror and apprehension hands, raucous bursts of laughter erupted that, lamentably for the girl, were not originating from Shiranui at all, but from a wholly different source instead; or rather _many_ sources, that Chizuru was not at all familiar with nor was able to fully regard at the moment.

"Wh—" was her failed attempt to breathe out words and inquire the dragon of the situation at hand. "Sh-Shiranui-san?" She whispered lowly, partly refusing to accept that an article of clothing –of all things- was tossed upon her so very rudely. It was a very alarming detail, for, combing that with the ruthless accusation 'pervert', it connoted that she had offered a very, very wrong impression.

"Remove it," Kyo only spat out in great urgency, refusing to further clarify. This only called forth more insistent waves of trepidation to befall her. What could the object be to warrant so curt responses?

In, not wholly ungrounded, reluctance she finally managed to faintly touch the light fabric and pulled it off her face. Instinctively, she brought it upon her eyes to inspect out of genuine curiosity. The unidentified apparel was colored bright yellow.

Deciding against pondering about the nature of the piece of clothing, she had no other egress but to, albeit weakly, utter out, at least a few, words to her defense. "I-I... I am not a pervert. Could I be in the wrong tent...? Hijikata-san informed me this was..." She hurriedly began to explain, her thumbs twiddling continuously as she spoke with haste.

"Oi, oi! Are you kidding?" a boisterous, incredulous voice, colored by a great sense of, ludicrously apparent, shock drummed in her ears. She tentatively locked her wide eyes upon the person. His teal eyes were blinking in utter embarrassment, deep scarlet marred his cheeks. "I did not agree on that, Souji!" the youth exclaimed, fully veering to fiercely glower at the auburn-haired man at his left.

"You_ did_ agree on this plan. Don't ruin it now," the auburn-haired man, apparently named Souji, noted nonchalantly, lips stretched in an impish smirk.

The teal-eyed man, who, frankly, resembled more an adolescent boy than a man, pointed an accusing finger at Chizuru's direction, refusing to divert his hues, welling with reproach, away from the person he called Souji. "How the hell did you snatch my loincloth?" he violently hollered, voice almost shaking in exasperation. "And why did you have to use _mine_ in the first place?"

"It was the only one left out. It is solely your fault that you are not taking good care of your belongings. Don't blame me now, Heisuke."

Only quivering breaths and trembling words could escape past Chizuru's parched lips. "L-loincloth. . .?" she could only mutter, gulping insistently.

"Don't tell me you don't know what _that_ is!" A voice sneered, whispering poignantly in her ear. And Chizuru very well knew this was not the voice of her consciousness. "It's all well and good being a demure and innocent little girl. But you've been thrust into the world of men, so start acting like one!" Shiranui's prompting words licked like fire around the deepest contours of her mind.

"I. . ." she started nervously, her innards burning due to her relentlessly disabling anxiety. Trying to shove even the sheer concept of anxiety, partly in no success, to the back of her mind, she mentally steeled herself in order to finally start demonstrating how greatly adamant she was at seeing this mission to an end. Couldn't she utter even a simple word? This much was expected of her to handle with ease, at least. _Probably. . ._ "...I think this is yours…?" she, still slightly shaking, managed to breathe out, holding the yellow loincloth really delicately on the teeny tiniest amount of cloth she could touch.

The long-haired man neared hurriedly, steps clouded by an impossible to place exasperation, and swiftly snatched the fabric away from her small hands, blushing profusely. ". . .Thanks. . ." he spluttered out, embarrassment creeping at his voice.

"Haven't you learned to announce your presence, boy?" A moment was needed for Chizuru to acknowledge that the 'boy' in question was none other than herself. She snapped her eyes towards the voice, meeting a muscular man, with short brown unruly hair, cerulean eyes watching her closely.

She visibly paled as she reached a realization. Admittedly, his remark -and the other man's before it- had been quite right. She disregarded, in the most uncouth manner, to declare her presence before entering the tent. What if the occupants had been indeed naked? Her blush thickened as the notion of her being a pervert was made a blatant reality inside her swirling thoughts. They had every right to accuse her of every hideous –and perverted- crime, since she had acted rudely enough as to invade their personal space unannounced.

"How old are you anyway?" The auburn-haired man that spoke before titled his head to the side, eyeing her closely, emerald eyes gleaming in a sense she could not entirely discern. A series of shivers cascaded down her spine as the sarcastic hue of his voice was finally imprinted on her mind and she could finally add two and two. This was definitely the voice that mocked and derided her before. Frankly, she did not know whatsoever what to deduce of that. Was she that much of a laughing show or was he simply keen to taunt people? "You look quite girly."

"Yes, Souji is right," the long haired individual, whose loincloth was only just horribly exploited, suddenly perked up, most likely struggling to shove the last embarrassing scene into oblivion, using whatever means possible. Chizuru could not find it in herself to blame him for still being quite nervous. After all, his own underwear was made a public sight not too long ago. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Your voice sounds girly too. Are you sure you're at the right place?" He neared, peering at her closely. Chizuru winced at the sudden –almost nonexistent- distance. The man, albeit young-looking, commanded a very interesting sense of allure. His close scrutiny only acted to faze her further.

She shook her head stubbornly, shoving any kind of inappropriate thinking away from her mind. She bit at her lower lip, involuntarily, as her anxiety built into something more—agitation. She bravely held the man's gaze, stirring herself into action. "If you must know..." she managed to stutter out, cheeks ablaze, "I am 17."

The long-haired youth broke into raucous laughter, "You're a kid!"

"Coming from you, that's a bit rich, Heisuke." Another man pointed out in inexplicable nonchalance. He cocked his eyebrows in a taunting manner at the younger male and turned to grace Chizuru with a debonair wink. "Are you alright, kid? I bet that loincloth smelled worse than shit. What's your name?"

"Oi! My loincloth does not smell, Sano-san! Don't you go making rude accusations!"

She drew in a sharp intake of air, pretending to ignore the indignant exclamation of the man she faintly registered had been called Heisuke. "My…" she hesitated for an infinitesimal moment, but soon roused herself to continue, feeling Shiranui's sharp claws boring at her back meaningfully. "Kaoru. My name is Yukimura Kaoru."

"Yukimura? Where are you from, kiddo?" The bulky man that spoke once before suddenly enquired. Chizuru, involuntarily, felt her cheeks burning guiltily the moment her gentle eyes landed upon his partly revealed torso, ripped with muscles.

She gulped, "Edo."

"Really?" a brisk voice exclaimed. "We are all from Edo here too. My name is Toudou Heisuke! This is Okita—"

"Souji," the man in question finished and huffed indignantly, leveling his friend with a glare. "Why did you have to give my name away?" He nudged the other man violently on the ribs, eliciting a moan of suppressed pain. "Whatever happened to your conviction? So much for the plan I struggled to devise."

Heisuke rubbed the sore spot and, groaning, turned to Souji "Stop being a prick. You just tossed him my used loincloth. And . . . can't you see how tiny and defenseless he looks—"

"So it _was _used," the rusty-haired man pointed out. Laughing under his breath he stepped closer to the disguised girl and ruffled her hair, way more forcefully than Chizuru had anticipated. "Kaoru, is it? I really feel for you. It must have been way horrible that I thought it was," he cackled loudly, "I am Harada Sanosuke."

"True enough. I bet Heisuke's loin must smell worse than Itou-san's does. " The man with cerulean-eyes and bulky physique smiled toothily. "Nagakura Shinpachi is the name," he introduced happily, playfully winking at her. "You look harmless. And here I thought we would have to kick the new guy out forcefully."

Entwined in his enthusiasm Chizuru almost overlooked the –heavy- meaning of his last words. "K-Kick out. . . forcefully. . .?" she breathed out anxiously.

"It-it… it wasn't that bad," Heisuke abruptly protested, curling his fingers into tense fists, face dusted with deep red, indicative of his shame. "Besides, you've never smelt Itou-san's butt to—"

"Cease this nonsense," the voice of the man that was yet to utter a single word suddenly towered above all others. He signed deeply and offered his name with a steady tone, following the others' example. "Saito Hajime," he curtly spoke, heaving an inaudible sigh, apparently quite displeased with the fact that the introductions of the others indirectly compelled him to act accordingly as well. "You'd do well to—"

"No, no, Hajime-kun. You interrupted at the worst moment possible. I, too, would like to know how Shinpachi-san knows the smell of Itou-san's loin. I admit the mere notion is shocking and very sickening, but interesting to know nonetheless. What do you have to disclose to us, Shinpachi-san?" Okita arched a probing eyebrow at the tall man.

"Souji, you prick! Don't jump to conclusions!" Chizuru blinked repeatedly in bewilderment, watching intently while the man introduced as Nagakura Shinpachi violently balled his hands into fists and prepared to counter Okita's words with his fearsome knuckles. Souji only chuckled in amusement.

"Then, Kaoru-", it required a second longer than expected for Chizuru to acknowledge her attention was asked for once more. It was, still, very unnerving to respond to a name that, essentially, was not bestowed upon her by birth, but by need. She faintly nodded to Heisuke, swallowing in bewilderment. "I guess you'll be sleeping with us from now on."

And how dreadful the mere concept felt, tingling her skin in ways she could not even properly discern or register at the same time.

"I am in your care, Toudou-san. I –"

As though forced to jolt by lighting, her body suddenly shook. A moment later she managed to pinpoint the source of this sudden disturbance. And it was no other than the vicious lizard hiding in the folds of her clothing, mercilessly clawing her tender skin in warning.

"Cut the freaking pleasantries," he growled once more emphatically. "Remember what I told you."

"Blegh Toudou-san makes me feel like I am older than Gen-san. Just call me Heisuke." He snickered in mirth, a wide, shiny, encouraging smile playing upon Heisuke's lips.

"I. . .H-Heisuke?" she tested the offer of the name, incredulous at how weak her voice sounded in her own ears.

"Yes, yes. That sounds better."

"Whatever happened to the plan, Heisuke?" Sanosuke sneered, grinning toothily while he crossed his arms over his chest, leering at the boy.

"Those are my thoughts exactly, Sano-san," Souji sighed in mock dramatics. "Although I can't deny this beneficial to us. Just look at the lad. He will hardly be a problem. Not to mention he will surely be squashed very soon. Problem solved."

"Sq-squashed?" Chizuru parroted in terror and disbelief.

"Damn, you're right. Shinpachi-san's bunk is the only free one." Heisuke mumbled and furrowed his brows pensively. The sense of partially concealed worry that was plastered upon his face only acted to pronounce Chizuru's distress.

A violent hit was abruptly landed at her back, greatly shaking her. It should have been considered as an affectionate pat, and yet Chizuru could hardly regard it as such. She had to stumble for a good few seconds to regain her balance. Biting her lips in concern, she prayed the lizard-like creature was not the one crushed instead of her, in a quite premature way, and by a mere hand nonetheless. A faint movement of her apparel at her right side pacified her momentarily as it signalized Shiranui was – only barely- salvaged from a gruesome and admittedly shameful death. She could distantly hear him spluttering curses and numerous insults at his very own luck.

Chizuru slowly veered to meet her assailant. "Be gallant, Kaoru," Sanosuke winked encouragingly, prompting her to walk towards the direction of the beds. "Shinpachi is dangerous whilst he sleeps. Not to mention heavy as hell."

"Oi, oi!" Nagakura sturdily objected. "Just when was it decided that I'd become the ridicule of the group? Wasn't Heisuke the one we decided to abuse?"

"Eh? When was_ that_ decided?" the younger boy protested loudly.

"Silence, runt! Wasn't _your_ loincloth just hurled to Kaoru just now?"

"What did you—"

"I suggest you move aside, Yukimura," a calm voice, akin to velvety ice, suddenly roused her, compelling her to move away from her standing place in order to parry the magnificent outburst of voices and hits that suddenly erupted from the men. She had no choice but to follow Saito's advice.

"I am amazed." Shiranui cackled tauntingly shifting again around the layers of her apparels. "You did not bow in thanks this time," he grinned mockingly in between her kimono. The mere concept that something was crawling around her body did anything but put Chizuru at ease. A quick assessment of the situation, though, led her to believe that this was the right, most optimal choice. She could not, of course, expose the creature to public view.

"So—"

"If you dare utter the word 'sorry' or any other ridiculously pleasant shit, I swear I'll bite your throat," the dragon threatened, claws nearly burning against her skin.

Chizuru gulped for the umpteenth time this dreadful day, and willed her limbs to guide her towards her bunk, that she, quite unfortunately, seemed to share with the bulkiest one of the group. Multiple pairs of eyes were watching her closely as she rid herself of her kodachi and small bag, containing the absolutely necessary of her belongings and carefully moved to place them upon the mattress. A sudden realization halted her movements. Where was she _supposed to_ deposit her belongings?

"Egh. . ." she cleared her throat, "Do I sleep in the bottom one?" she worriedly and very, very nervously asked, still preciously holding her items. The upper bed seemed occupied. She could easily tell by the disheveled sheets and numerous objects situated upon it. The bottom bunk was seemingly welcoming her to use it. And yet, that hardly made any sense. She was, admittedly, the tiniest, and Nagakura Shinpachi, the person who she gathered will share her bunk with, was the most muscular one. Could that combination be even feasible? Oh! Her lips oddly parched as she reached a conclusion. So that was what they implied by 'squashed'.

"I am afraid so." The tall man introduced to her as Harada, amusedly padded towards her, seating himself on the mattress at the right of her own. "It was decided that Shinpachi will take that one. There is no helping it. You have to bear with it, kid."

She gulped visibly and nibbled at her bottom lip. Would. . . would she be alright? The beds did not seem as though they could sustain too much pressure or weight. If the hunky man decided to brawl -which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy, judging by the scene now unfolding near the tent's entrance between him and Heisuke- she would inevitably be able to thoroughly enjoy and relish how all ants feel when they, unfortunately, happen to be stomped to death by a towering, fearsome human.

"To be honest," Okita's voice suddenly boomed as he also parried, with inexplicable nonchalance and practiced ease, the fight burning strong between Nagakura and Toudou, assuming his place right next to Harada. "I think I'll like this setting. Kaoru is it?" Chizuru nodded affirmatively at his asking for confirmation, "What luck! You are sleeping next to—"

"Souji," Harada suddenly interrupted eyeing the other man searchingly. Golden hues narrowed meaningfully, slowly calculating, measuring Souji's moves. It was blatantly evident in Sanosuke's eyes that Souji had no wise or merciful plans in store for the tiny-sided boy. He whispered, brows furrowed, "Let's change beds."

Okita arched his eyebrows probingly. "Hm? Why for, Sano-san? Do you want to sleep next to Kaoru here that badly?"

Harada grimaced slightly, "You know what I mean. Don't play dumb." He leaned closer, whispering words Chizuru could hardly discern. She chose to regard Harada's gesture as her indirect cue to avert her gaze and focus on her own business instead. She had no intention whatsoever to be branded as an insensitive gossiper too. Being branded as a pervert was a pain enough to her ego. She clicked her tongue faintly, expecting Shiranui's claws on her skin as a response. She continued depositing her items on her personal space, seemingly not at all perturbed by the stentorian hollers of the brawlers or the incriminating mutters of the two closest to her.

Sanosuke exhaled, "Will you torture the hell out of the kid if I leave you be in this bed?"

Souji chortled in amusement, "But of course."

* * *

Chizuru needed to exercise caution in many different, and equally crucial, levels, aspects and occasions. She was not about to grant anyone the privilege of ridiculing her further, regardless of how disarmingly gorgeous they might had been. And, unfortunately for her, she had to admit, the men with whom she shared her tent were truly beautiful, exceptional male specimen. She would feel her resolve weakening, faced with the prospect of dealing with people she had no hope whatsoever of confronting or handling to her own, innocent, benefit.

In different circumstances she would have scolded herself vehemently, or rather eschew this way of thinking altogether. This time, though, she could not possibly stem the torrents of heat that accumulated on her cheeks, painting her face incriminatingly pink. For, inevitably she would have to witness scenes she would have never laid her innocent eyes upon, had the situation been different for her and the Yukimura family.

A very upsetting matter reared its ugly head the moment the absurdity and grueling nature of her state was made painfully obvious to her, had her skin tingling in dread. It also brought forth the most stressing issue which she needed to exercise caution for; her identity. Her womanly identity.

Paranoia started creeping over her as hours ticked by. She quietly decided to shrink herself, somehow, and occupy as less space as possible, soundlessly watching as the men bantered back and forth, laughed amused-ly, occasionally fought over the most trivial of things and loudly cursed more often than she could keep proper count.

The only person that seemed to share her interests and opted to remain in peaceful –as far as possible- silence was the taciturn indigo-haired man named Saito. Composed and unruffled, he was resting upon his own bunk, minding little of the antics of his friends. His bed was at the top, at the far opposite end of Chizuru. She had no way to steal not even a furtive glance at him; she could only surmise. Judging by the unusual silence and the distinct distance the rest had put between them and Saito, Chizuru concluded that the man forgave no disturbance of his peace or personal space. At the same time, though, he must have been long accustomed to the boisterous outbursts of the others. How else to explain the, certainly absurd in its give, calmness he emitted?

Chizuru had presumed that all men she had encountered were familiar with each other long before the conscription notices disturbed all of Japan with their insistent demands of recruitment. The matter inevitably troubled her. Why was she placed in a tent of men that were obviously acquainted? She stuck out like a sore thumb, really.

She struggled insistently and stubbornly to ignore Okita's teasing comments or Nagakura's calls to wrestle and prove _"Tiny guys have guts too"_ or Harada's occasional laughing and patting on the back, or Heisuke's awkward smiles -he was obviously still remembering the loincloth incident . . . Not to mention Shiranui's caustic staring or taunting smiles of derision, while he masterfully hid under any kind of clothing Chizuru had at her disposal, combined with the desperate chirrups of the cricket that accompanied her.

All those thoughts swirling in her mind paved the way for an awkward series of somersaults right after the man that kindly offered his assistance before appeared at the entrance of the tent and conveyed a message from the high officials. He only spared a fleeting askance glace at her direction, faintly nodding to her for managing to locate her tent successfully. He paid no words to her personally, and for that she was quite thankful. Instead—

"Excuse my intrusion. I have word from Kyokucho."

"If it isn't Yamazaki-kun . . . " Okita suddenly perked up, grinning sardonically at the stern-looking man. "Word from Kondou-san, you say?" he murmured as he pulled himself into a standing position.

Yamazaki opted to ignore Okita's greeting altogether for the time being and, stolid and apathetic, continued, "He asked me to remind all of you, whilst you may share history with one and other, to not let recent history repeat itself." He eyed them all stressing-ly, his sharp eyes lacing his words with authority emanating from the simple fact . . . that those orders came directly from their Commander; and, consequently of course, from the Vice Commander as well. Any rational person would promptly guess, provided that they knew what to make of those words, that the orders were not Kondou-san's alone. The grimness, so characteristic of Hijikata Toshizo and _not _Kondou Isami, was blatantly intertwined, lurking beneath their given orders.

After releasing a sharp breath, Yamazaki continued. "There is to be no wondering around the encampment during the middle of the night. Especially, you, Okita-san. The rules are there to be obeyed and you are expected to rise early in the morn, so I suggest settling down to sleep within the next hour or two."

Any witty remarks that slipped past Okita's lips or protests against the news Yamazaki-san conveyed were shortly drowned in the depths of consternation that came to plague Chizuru mercilessly.

Day morphed into night all too quickly. She had no intention of disobeying orders. None at all. She needed to follow any instruction or behest in precision if she wished to survive in this encampment and see her plans successfully coming to fruition.

It was made painfully clear what her fate would unfold before her once the men around her swiftly started undressing.

Her mouth was left unforgivably agape, brown eyes staring incredulously at the scene unraveling before her innocent eyes. _How . . . how. . _. Every coherent word was suddenly nowhere to be found. They. . . they disrobed so very callously, clothes were slowly coming off in such a tantalizing teasing manner. Bare chests suddenly came into view, glistening muscles clenching and unclenching, voices were only a distant melody, barely distracting her from the mouth-watering sight before her. Her limbs and face were surely burning ablaze, plagued by a horrible flush.

"Shit! Girly, keep it together!" Shiranui's voice suddenly roused her from her reverie. His sharp teeth bit emphatically at her fingers. She turned to regard the little dragon glowering at her, indigo eyes nearly darting fires. The salamander-like creature had brazenly slid into view, settling on her mattress, the little crimson cricket by his side. "What kind of promiscuities are you thinking of? So much for declaring you are no pervert. That Okita was right. You really are a lewd little bastard."

She opened her mouth to disagree, deny any charges he was pressing against her all so suddenly. "I am not—"

"Oi, Kaoru!"

At the call of her name she slowly and dramatically veered only to meet Nagakura's bare body, narrowly covered by a blue loincloth over the most essential and secretive parts of his physique.

All traces of red were suddenly drained from her face as her blush disappeared and she finally paled dreadfully, skin glowing whiter than even when it was painted alabaster from Kosuzu's make-up. Gulping loudly, she managed to utter, "Y-yes?" whilst trying to avert her eyes from the toned muscled of his arms and chest that were already considerably shown even while he was clad in his clothes.

"Aren't you going to change? Hygiene, kiddo! Those are the clothes you traveled with, right?" She had no other choice but to nod like a scolded brat. "Mind your hygiene," he reiterated purposefully. "Trust me when I say . . . you _don't _want to meet the person in charge of medical affairs in Shinsengumi." Nagakura grimaced for an infinitesimal moment, disturbed by an inner thought. He shortly assumed his jovial composure again, gracing Chizuru with a toothy smile before he turned to take hold of the rest of his clothing.

This was it. Her doom. The bane of her existence. The end. Finale.

How was she supposed to do. . . this? Undress . . .? It's true that her modest chest was securely restrained by her tight bindings. But this was hardly the entirety of the problem she was facing against. The mere notion of undressing with an audience unsettled her in more ways than she could even count. Her maroon eyes fleetingly caught sight of Shiranui arching his brows at her, grinning wickedly.

Reluctantly and yet decisively she turned her back to the men. If she was going to do this, she better take any necessary precautions possible. Heaving a sigh, Chizuru tried to mentally steel herself for what was to come.

Locking her eyes over the tent's canvas firmly, she slowly started disrobing. _Slowly. Slowly. Slowly._ It was impossible to do so as casually and leisurely the others undressed. A moment later the first layer was removed. When she finally reached the second one, Chizuru found herself hesitating. She was most likely entitled to keep her under kimono, despite the fact that all other men had rid themselves of theirs. She was dangerously close to mourning over the dreadful realization that this under layer smelled horribly due to her long trip to Kyoto; sweat, rain, dirt tarnished the fabric. She mentally made note of the fact that she, thankfully, retained another change of under kimono in her traveling bag.

Nagakura had been unquestionably right. Regardless of her unique circumstances, she had to also take care of her hygiene. She was, after all, a physician's daughter and that much was expected of her. Breathing a sharp intake of air she held her arms over the garment and allowed it to slink off carefully.

Unbeknownst to her, her slow movements resembled more of a woman teasing her spouse on the deepest contours of their bedroom than a young boy changing his clothes for the evening.

This very notion was stressed horribly when a low teasing whistle escaped Shiranui's lizard-ly mouth. "What a freaking tease you are! Is this deliberate? Just to be clear, girly, I ain't dating you disguised as a manchild. It's _gross."_

She gasped in surprise and dither at his words. Somehow she felt the oddly urgent need to turn. For, besides Shiranui's apparent degrading and taunting remarks, a stifling silence ruled the room that did nothing but prompt Chizuru to fully veer and regard the others. A moment ago they were as rowdy as ever. What happened that warranted such a pronounced change in their demeanor so abruptly?

She was met with a sight of five sets of eyes staring at her; and staring very intently. She hardly resisted the urge to crawl away from their sharp hues boring holes at her back.

In a rare act of courage she managed to inquire, clearing her throat in a desperate attempt to compel her voice to sound more manly, "E-Eh? Is something wrong?"

Her hesitant words seemed to have inflicted at least some kind of impact to the men. "W-Wrong?!" Heisuke nearly barked out, rubbing his head nervously. "No. It's just. . . that. . ."

"Anyone would think with hips like those that you were a woman in disguise." Souji suddenly commented, minding not of the horrible flush that marred Chizuru's cheeks.

"Teh! And anyone would think that the way you mention the way I look all the time, that you were sat there wishing I was," a voice brazenly retorted. She gasped in utter fright. By the incriminating looks they were all giving her, she, ruefully, concluded that they had presumed she was the one that uttered those words.

"What did you say, Kaoru?"

"N-nothing!" she swallowed hardly, chuckling awkwardly. Frowning in embarrassment, she swiftly turned to level Shiranui with the most horrendous glare she could muster. "Please, Shiranui-san!"

* * *

"He even looks like a kid when he sleeps." One voice whispered, a little hesitant to see through the newly devised devilish plan as they were, after all, on reasonably good terms before sleeping the night before.

"Think we should wake him up?" Another replied, eyes darting back and forth between the subject of their conversation and the ring leader of their little prank patrol.

"Maybe... He does look so peaceful, after all." The ring leader spoke up, emphasizing the word peaceful to show his distaste, all the while eyeing the kid with intensity.

Dreams were her only luxury in the midst of all this self-inflicted craziness. She relished in the opportunity to visit the world of slumber, to delve into past memories and concoct little tales of her very own. One such tale saw her as the last remaining princess of a renown clan, on the brink of extinction, fending for her future with a ragtag bunch of men. The men, whose faces felt all too familiar, could pass between one form and another more sinister where their eyes would shine with the vampiric lust for blood.

Demons, all of them were demons.

Her eyes flashed open and without intending to, she ended up in a panicked heap on the floor, between her bed and the one to the right. Her hands grabbed at her hair, a momentary trick of the eye coloured those ebony locks the palest white, and she fell back in disbelief. The back of her head painfully collided with the wooden frame of their unusual beds and she let out a whine, completely oblivious to the others watching her unusual display whilst smirking in sick satisfaction.

"_Something wrong, Chizuru?"_

"_Ch-Chizuru?"_

"_Your name is Chizuru, right?"_

* * *

The earth-shattering sound of wood warping snapped her back to her senses. She was still caught up in the confines of her bed sheets, sweating profusely.

It was all a bad dream!

Just a terrible, awful, soul destroying dream!

Something above her was moving, surfacing from the twines of pleasant rest, causing the bed to creak and crack under the strain. Her faced paled. She had leapt from the metaphorical sizzling frying pan into the burning flames of a imaginary fire. She was going to die, she knew it. She'd be forever known as that one kid who was squashed to death by the dense lump who happened to be named Shinpachi Nagakura. They told her she'd be squashed, they warned her! She'd be unrecognisable, she'd be flatter than a... than something terribly flat, a flat rock! She pooled herself for the strength required and tossed her formerly limp and in shock body from the bunk on to the hard ground.

"G'Morning, Kaoru~!" A jovial voice practically sung out. She brought her gaze from the floor upwards to be greeted by bright and awfully cheerful smile. She could feel the burn of her blood in her veins, warming every visible inch of her to a rich, red blush whilst her mouth fell agape in horror.

After what felt like a few minutes of naught but silence, a meek smile eventually passed her lips and she returned the greeting, albeit a few octaves louder than she intended, "Good morning... Okita-san."

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, none too fussed at whether she did or did not sleep well. He was merely making light conversation whilst trying to suppress his laughter at seeing the pint-sized recruit throw themselves out of bed all the while still being comically tangled in their sheets. Not even his devious plan could've seen a reaction as golden as the one she just performed before them.

"Wonderfully..." She sighed, a part of her far too ashamed to continue eye contact any longer than necessary. With a quick squirm, she found herself free of the barrier which was her bed linen and soon dusted herself down as she incoherently muttered something about damnable demons under her breath.

"Oi, oi, Shinpachi-san, shift yourself – you disheveled shit!" Heisuke called out. He was soon silenced by a mighty fist which clattered down, all too painfully, against his skull.

* * *

Aided in her morning routines by none other than the wily little dragon, which she had become oddly quite fond of, she adopted the swagger he kept insisting she tried. Shoulders back, legs bowed. She strutted past various other recruits with an air of what could only be described as faux arrogance. They knew she was not all what she proclaimed to be, yet did not see fit to tamper with her little confidence exercise.

From a distance, not too far from the spectacle of the young recruit struggling to assert themselves, two men found themselves smiling. One's glasses flashed in the early sunlight as they leaned in towards the other, murmuring something along the lines of over exaggeration and low self confidence. The second man, with a kind face, hummed in agreement and quietly added, "The poor lad tries too hard, do you not agree, Sannan-kun?"

"Indeed, Kondou-san." The man, named Sannan, replied.

"Think it's time?" Kondou enquired, turning his attention to the accumulating troops.

"Yes, I would say so." Sannan smiled and brought his hand out before him to indicate the way.

With a smile as broad as his shoulders, a man with dark hair which stuck out at spectacular angles, announced his presence to the gathered troops. "Welcome! I am fully aware that the circumstances of our meeting may not be pleasant for all of you and for that, I apologise. We, the Shinsengumi, hope that you find our hospitality-"

"Kondou-san, you're losing sight of what-" Sannan quietly murmured as his sharp gaze fixed itself upon his bumbling friend.

"A-Ah!" Kondou muttered, having suddenly lost all confidence to continue his little introduction, "Toshi..." He mumbled, hoping that his plight may have somehow reached his otherwise indifferent comrade.

With little more than a grumble, the man decided to lend his aid, if only for this morning. "We at the Shinsengumi expect nothing but the best. If you are unwilling to give your absolute all despite our most warm hospitality then you may as well head home now. The man who just spoke with you earlier, Kondou-san, our Commander, is watching over our entire operation and you will at all times listen to his instructions. This morning I shall be running you through some basic training drills, in order to weed to men from the boys. If you dare to fail me here, I shall not hesitate to send you home in disgrace." The Vice-Commander projected to his legion of trainees, not a single stutter or hint of uncertainty in his voice. Chizuru couldn't help but be slightly mesmerized by how he demanded both attention and loyalty by his presence alone.

A set of claws dug into her back as a polite yet rather uncomfortable reminder, not to become infatuated with any of the men she may meet throughout this insane journey of hers. But who was to say that respect would definitely slowly develop into something resembling infatuation? She was not some mere woman, girl, who could be easily swayed by the beauty of a man beneath ethereal moonlight, she had discarded all womanly desires away for her family name.

For a moment or two Chizuru's attention had turned to the Commander, who seemed a little worse for wear. His face was sickly, pale, and when their eyes briefly met – she felt horrified. He... He had seen her earlier exerting her male bravado as much as any other recruit. The gurn on the Commander's face quickly shifted into a warm smile upon noticing her attention and she couldn't help but smile in return.

"You may not agree with my methods but I am not here to hold your hand, I will not be your drinking buddy and I expect you all to give me your best." Hijikata continued to drawl, much to Shiranui's irritation.

Under the security blanket which was Chizuru's clothing, he mumbled in complete annoyance, "Man loves the sound of his own voice..." To make things a little more interesting and test this, presumably, narcissistic man's patience, Shiranui decided to take matters into his own claws. Entertainment, after all, was lacking.

"I can't say I'm particularly fond of you either!" A voice piped up, perfectly mimicking Chizuru's very own to the very inflections and accentuated pronunciations, earning more than a few satisfied smirks from the surrounding men. Where she was once entirely mesmerized by the man commanding the crowd before her, she now felt nothing but dread. How... How could Shiranui utter those words, didn't he care if she lived or died?!

With a hiss, she scolded the miniature dragon, "Do you want me to die?! Is that your plan? To get me beheaded, skewered and boiled alive for insolence?"

"My, what a creative imagination you possess..." He mused from within the folds of her clothes.

"Who was that?" The Vice-commander called out, his eyes narrowed to little more than frustrated slits. Chizuru felt a pair of hands shove her forwards, into the domain of the Oni Fukucho. He let out a sigh due to her presence and uttered, quietly, "You? Again? Do you have no appreciation of the kindness I showed you only yesterday?"

"I-I..." She stuttered hideously, eyes dead set on the muddied floor. From within the confines of her clothes, the little dragon knew this was the perfect chance to make some mischief yet something stopped him in his tracks - the girl trembling in complete fear.

The little lizard, Shiranui, knew he had to do something or he would've failed miserably at the first hurdle. And the Oni elders would surely not look upon him favourably. It would take all of his skills, acquired over the various years he had lived, to pull this little stunt off adequately.

"Always fast to jump to conclusions, aren't you, Oni Fukucho-_san_?" Shiranui quipped, attempting his best impersonation of the manchild who had abandoned the idea of camaraderie having pushed the poor woman, who acted as his ferry, to the figurative wolves.

"Sou.." He had to catch himself. He should have known this was one of Souji's little ill thought out pranks; the two were sharing a tent together after all, "O-Okita! Yukimura, get back in line, I'll see that this is dealt with."

"Y-Yes, sir." She mumbled, backing off slowly into the crowd from whence she came. She did not see it fit to lift her eyes from the floor once nor turn her back on her superior officer; she had already inadvertently caused so much disrespect and chaos.

"H-Huh? Me? What could I have possibly done this time?" Souji pouted whilst purposely making sure to ignore the looks of exasperation on his friends' faces. After all, they knew this situation all too well.

With a heavy sigh, the Vice Commander lifted the small bow he kept by his side and raised it into the air, arrow at the ready. His target was the large, wooden log situated in the middle of the encampment. With a whistle, the arrow embedded itself in the very top of the wood and stood proud. "You," he spoke directly to Kaoru's slinking figure, "Retrieve that arrow."

"N-now, Hijikata-san?" Kaoru squeaked. How on earth would she ever retrieve that arrow? It was stuck in the very tip of a large wooden beam! She had always been useless at climbing, the amount of times she skinned her knees as a child after falling from a tree...

"Aah, Hijikata-san is putting the whelp through his paces, I get it now!" Souji mused, a smirk lining his cat like features.

"Okita, I expect you the same if not more of you, so I suggest you wipe that fucking smile off of your face." He paused momentarily before turning his attention to the small gathering of recruits, eager to watch. "And oi! What do you think you're staring at? Laps, now! Go!"

With arrogance and confidence oozing from every pore, Souji approached the wooden beam and stretched his arms out in front of him. His fingers, which were interlocked, let out a disgusting cracking noise to which Kaoru recoiled, sickened. She was thankful that the rest of the men had been shooed away to perform their morning training of running laps and thus there wasn't a huge audience to witness her inevitable failure.

Souji's confidence was not misplaced, especially since he was not the one who was expected to go first. With his trademark smirk and a gesture which she couldn't quite understand, Kaoru realised she was expected to lead this little exercise.

The smile which graced Souji's face expertly hid the inner turmoil he was currently experiencing, how could he have possibly ended up here? Who the hell thought it was a good idea to impersonate him, of all people? With a sly nod, he saw the kid pass him by and size up the formidable yet inanimate object.

The weights in her hands drained all her energy, they were like nothing she had ever held in her life before, so hefty and large. With the icy glare of the Vice-Commander on her back, she approached the wooden beam with hesitation. Ill-timing the wrap of the weights around the base, she smashed her forehead against the wooden beam due to the forward momentum.

"And she's outta there!" The little lizard, who often took refuge in her clothes, joked aloud.

Hijikata, who watched the entire event unfold, let out a deep sigh and quickly dismissed the child who rubbed at their head in agony. "Go, join up with the others. Obviously I expected far too much of you, get out of my sight." With great distaste, she reluctantly joined up with the others who jogged around the outskirts of the encampment.

Heisuke, who was several lengthy strides ahead, turned his head to the side and let out an encouraging yet deafening cheer, "Run, Kaoru! Run!"

"...I" She managed to wheeze out a reply whilst continuing to heave herself forwards at a slower pace, "...am!"

"You call that running? ...What did you do all day back in Edo?" Sano, who had slowed to a painstakingly slow jog, asked.

"Cl-" A pair of sharp spindly claws dug straight into her back, forcibly stopping her mouth before she irresponsibly ran it off, "Chores! My father studies western medicine, I was often roped in to help with his clinic."

"You're really out of shape, kid." Shinpachi chimed in, she wasn't quite sure when he precisely reached her, or more appropriately put when he lapped her. "You should try to be more like me!" He boasted, much like a child, purposely flexing his biceps in tandem with one and other.

"I..." Just as she was about to respond, she tripped on a stealthily placed rock and tumbled, making a prized spectacle of herself. Embarrassment radiated off the miniature recruit.

* * *

Sit ups, in the midday sun, was not her idea of fun. In fact, it was the polar opposite, but she was not here to enjoy herself. Her stomach screamed out in protest at the onslaught of exercise she forced upon it. She was itching not to be the last person to reach the target number of crunches, she could not handle the humiliation of coming last again.

As she struggled to keep up with her new acquaintances she noticed a man nearby, who was also struggling. His mop of unruly blue hair, which was tied up into a high ponytail, kept unintentionally whipping him in the face and without intending to, she let out a quiet giggle.

"What are you staring at?" He huffed, irritation rife in his voice, he had just been caught looking utterly stupid after all.

"M-mine does that too..." She smiled whilst she took a momentary rest on her elbows, giving into the demands of her screeching stomach.

"Yours is too short." He snipped, taking her relaxed stance as an unspoken challenge to force himself further.

"W-well! It used to!" She grumbled in reply, noting his sudden burst in energy. If she continued to rest and fool around like she was, she would surely look bad. In a decision she would live to regret in the morning, she felt that she could not simply ignore his provocation. Admittedly, she felt completely reinvigorated as she continued with stomach crunches, even if it was just to try and outshine this rude man beside her.

* * *

The weight in her hand, despite being wooden, strained at her weakened wrists. The heft she was now no longer accustomed to being swung, over and over, chipped away at what was left of her energy reserves. She wasn't about to admit she had pathetic, romanticised ideas of what training would entail. The art of swordsmanship wasn't something to be scoffed at but she definitely didn't expect to struggle this much taking into consideration that she had been taught basic self defence when she was younger. How many years had passed since then?

The resolution in her heart constantly quivered and shook, each of the men surrounding her were ready and able to take life if necessary – could she possibly do the same if her life depended on it?

A nagging voice at the back of her mind, sounding much like the brother she impersonated, spoke in both a disheartening and scathing way.

_You would rather die than take a life, wouldn't you?_

_You keep forgetting, you are not Chizuru any longer._

It was true, she had always put the life of others before her own, especially the life of her dear twin. There were times in the past when their relationship was anything but strained, when they'd play peacefully in meadows, when they'd sing silly little songs together whilst dancing like a pair of rogue pixies. No longer could she remain this innocent, demure girl as surely this rigorous training regime would certainly touch on the topic how to take a life.

A sharp, tingling pain ran up both of her legs, the area would surely bruise in the coming hours, and she soon realised that she was crumpled in a heap on the ground, "Oooft..." She groaned, a hand rubbing at her now aching backside, throbbing from where she landed hard on it.

Heisuke, who was almost completely unaware to the fact that he had just knocked a friend clean off of their feet, cried out in desperation, "Kaoru, I didn't see you there!"

"What Heisuke is really saying is that you're such a pipsqueak-" Being the one to ever twist the words of his comrades, Souji began to enjoy two of his toys at once with his trademark sly smile settling firmly into place on his face.

"Hey! Kaoru! Don't listen to Souji. I'm not that much of a jackass." Heisuke quickly refuted Souji's wild claims, a pout marring his otherwise cheerful exterior.

Sensing Heisuke's sensitivity on the subject, Souji quickly continued the joke laden verbal assault on his friend, "But you do admit that you are one and purposely knocked Kaoru on his butt?"

"...Heisuke, it's fine." She mumbled under her breath as she unsteadily raised herself to her feet. All she could hope was that both her backside and her legs where she was hit would not bruise all too crudely.

For some reason upon hearing the young kid in front of him address him so casually, Heisuke smiled broadly, "You actually called me Heisuke! Here I was thinking you'd call me Toudou-san again!"

Not meaning to burst his bubble or wipe the infectious, cheery smile from his face, Chizuru spoke in a quiet voice, "While I may not feel right referring to you as Heisuke, we are of similar age and it feels-"

"You're acting like a girl again." Shiranui let out a breathy whisper to remind her of her newly acquired responsibilities, but also taking pleasure in tormenting her and saving her face at the same time.

Her nose wrinkled in irritation almost immediately and in her most intimidating tone, Chizuru hissed at the retreating lizard. "I-I... I was not speaking to you." Once the sly creature was back, safe, within the folds of her clothes she allowed her attention to trail back to the two men who were still bickering amongst themselves, "But I did say I'd call you Heisuke, so..."

Satisfied that the accident had been adequately dealt with, both Heisuke and Souji returned to their wooden swords and their shared training regime with relative ease. A part of her envied them, envied their closeness and their loyalty to one and other yet another, more rational, part of her merely found the thought of her feeling jealous over the way that two unrelated men had bonded over the years laughable.

An unfamiliar voice stole her from her thoughts, her confused expression was greeted by a self depreciating smile, "I hate their bravado... ignore them, you're doing alright, well... you're doing better than me."

"O-oh, it's you." She spluttered. It was the man from earlier who she had formed a temporary rivalry with over who could complete the most crunches in the allotted time. Her mind wondered back to earlier that day. It was certainly the most fun she had experienced since enrolling in this encampment even if her stomach felt like it had been ragged around by a wild animal for a good few hours.

The miniature recruit before him radiated kindness despite only minutes ago being sullied by thick mud so he felt he should at least share his name with them. "You? I have a name, Ibuki Ryunosuke." The man with the messy blue ponytail moaned. From what she could tell he seemed friendly enough, he even went as far as to half heartedly compliment her efforts.

With her brightest smile, she replied to her new acquaintance, "Nice to meet you, Ibuki-san. I'm Yukimura Chi-" She quickly caught herself, this was a habit she truly had to snap out of, "...Kaoru, why don't we train together?"

Souji struggled to hide his elation at how the pint-sized recruit and the grouchy one with unruly hair had formed a temporary truce. Even if it did meddle with his current plans, at least he now knew that all of his future efforts would have to accommodate two people and not just one.

* * *

**Authors' Note**

* * *

_And there we have it! Loincloths are magically flying through the air -even though it was technically Souji's fault-, Chizuru is developing a healthy rivalry with Ryunosuke -of all people- whilst striving to survive sleeping under Shinpachi and not, for goodness' sake, tease her roommates with her disrobing habits, Hijikata is as demonic as ever and Shiranui had a secret talent that even we never knew about- impersonating people! If those are not indicative of what madness is to follow, we really do not know what is._

_We promise to try and update as soon as we can. Life can be very hectic at times, but we are trying to work diligently on this. Your feedback is much appreciated and a marvelous incentive to help us overcome the burdens of our busy schedules as far as humanly possible_.

_Thanks for reading, everyone! Please leave a review if you, too, missed lovely horsey, Chikage, and eagerly wait to see his reaction to all this. Not to mention Souji's next plan of attack and how, exactly, can Chizuru survive in maddening world.  
_


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